where we land
by ohwhatsherface
Summary: Rivetra Anthology. 33. Petra decides to keep her surname.
1. decoy

**Pairing:** Levi/Petra  
><strong>Warning(s):<strong> Petra survives AU because I will never ever accept the death of Levi's squad; being vague about how she survived...; also, this takes place before/during Chapter 53 so maybe spoilers?  
><strong>Note: <strong>Please bear with me if this is awful – I'm totally new to this fandom. Enjoy!**  
>Summary: <strong>You weren't actually serious about using Armin as the decoy, were you?  
><strong>Disclaimer: <strong>I do not own _SnK_.

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><p>He supposes she's kind of blonde, if you're really looking. He's always thought of her hair as something along the lines of copper at most times, auburn when damp, and strawberry blond at the absolute brightest. But now under better lighting and now that he's spent a good half hour leaning against the bathroom door watching her run her fingers through her hair by the sink, he can relent and think that fine, maybe she should be the one playing Historia's decoy.<p>

She rolls her eyes at his staring. "I know you're worried, Captain," she says in a tone that she probably thinks is soothing. It makes things worse for her to call him by his title when she's completely ignoring his commands. "But I'm more than capable of hand-to-hand combat. And it would be silly to send _Armin_." She pauses, frowning at him. "Were you actually serious about that?"

His flat stare tell her that yes, yes of course he was.

Petra only laughs. "Levi, that's ridiculous." Or she's ridiculous. She, the one with the disgusting-looking white goop coating her hair which he can smell from across the bathroom. "Why would you want to use him when _I'm_ available?"

He can see her logic. She's slim, she's short, she's in the process of washing out the bleach in hair meant to make it a little closer to Historia's shade of blonde, and, unlike Armin, she's actually female.

But he can't help but be annoyed by the way she blatantly went against his orders in front of his newly formed squad. It wasn't rude or disrespectful per se, but Petra has never spoken against him before. She's made suggestions, yes, and usually with a lot of aggressive, desperate shouting, but she's never actually _acted_ without his consent. She's quick to tell him when they really, really should be switching to their 3D Manoeuvering Gear, or when contrary to what his eyes are telling him, the room Sasha and Jean were supposed to take care of actually _is_ clean, or when he _has_ to be joking because apparently _she_ should be the one to play Historia's double.

Why would he use Armin when he could use Petra?

Simple. Because he doesn't fucking want to use Petra.

Of course she was his first choice. She really _is_ the most sensible choice. She's the most similar to Historia in terms of appearances, save for the slightly darker hair which she's already taking care of. But the idea of handing Petra over to some unknown group of assholes who want god knows what from the real Historia makes him uneasy in a way that was completely different from telling her and the rest of his squad to head west and protect Eren from any titans.

Titans just ate people. Men were capable of so much more than that.

There's no knowing what they might do to her while they think she's the one they're looking for, and he can't imagine them reacting all too kindly if they ever find out she's a fake.

"Do you doubt my judgement now, Petra?" he wonders.

"What do you mean?"

He doesn't roll his eyes, doesn't scoff. "Do I really need to explain?" He sounds more weary than sarcastic, afraid that she'll tell him frankly that no fucking shit does she doubt his judgement, that she thinks he sent Erd and Gunther and Auruo off to their deaths, that she hates him for arriving soon enough to get her battered body away from the two fighting titans but too late to help everyone else.

Petra turns away from him and begins to towel dry her hair.

"I don't," she says. "I don't doubt you. Not _you_." He catches a glimpse of her and sees her face contort. She looks pained and broken and he wants to hold her or placate her somehow but he can't so he stays still. "I don't doubt you," she repeats softly, "but I can't let anything happen to anyone else."

He opens his mouth and closes it. He does it again and again trying to find the right words because there's no cure for survivor's guilt. "You did nothing wrong," he tells her, feeling his frustration grow. "Don't be stupid. You couldn't have taken down the Female Titan – _no one_ could take down the Female Titan. We still technically haven't since that bitch is living it up in her stupid piece of shit crystal. You did nothing wrong by surviving, Petra."

"I'm alive while they're all dead."

"So am I."

"You weren't there."

He stiffens at the unintentional jab. "So was Eren."

"Maybe," she mumbles. "Not really. You don't get it. I shouldn't have let her sneak up on us. I should've known she was planning something when we blinded on her. I shouldn't have lost my focus." He can see each of their deceased friends with each frustrated sentence. "I don't doubt you," she assures him with a terse smile.

She doubts herself.

She doubts herself, Levi realizes, and she needs this, partly because it's the most logical option for their operation, but mostly because she needs to prove to herself that she's capable of protecting her comrades.

Levi sighs and she sighs, putting down the towel. Her hair is still a bit damp, but he can see how much lighter it's gotten. He doesn't realize he's holding a lock of it until he sees her staring at him curiously. He drops the hair like it's burned him and crosses his arms. He looks her up and down, focusing in particular on her freshly bleached hair and scowling at the smell of it.

"Don't provoke them."

She turns to face the mirror, but he still keeps his eyes on hers.

"Whatever band of merry fucking idiots grab you and Jean, just act like some scared little girl," he orders sternly. "Don't tell them they're morons even though that's what they are. Don't try to run away. Don't try to fight them." He grimaces as she arranges her bangs so that she'll look more like Historia. "Just play the victim until I get to you. Just be caref—just don't do anything stupid. Okay?"

She turns around and smiles at him and he's so fucking glad that he managed to get to her on time but so fucking scared that he's putting her in danger again, essentially handing her over to their enemies that they know next to nothing about.

"I'll be careful," she murmurs, taking his hand in hers. He grips her tightly and she squeezes back. "I promise."

She leans forward, her forehead pressed against his.

He closes his eyes and breathes.


	2. drunk i

**Summary:** The sky's awake, so Petra's awake. She's also a little bit drunk.

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><p>Naturally, this is Hanji's fault. Something about a ladies night and cheap drinks and <em><em>come on Petra you <em>_have__to__ __come with me come on come on come on__. Then, some hours later, there was a knock on his door and there was Hanji again, a nervous grin on her face while she explained that Petra __may__ have gotten incredibly wasted so Hanji __may__ have goaded her into doing something crazy and/or slightly illegal so Petra __may__ have been taken into custody but the police involved __may__ have been really nice when they realized Petra was actually a pretty charming drunk so they __may__ have said they'd release her as long as her superior came to pick her up.

Fucking Hanji.

He takes Petra back to his room because he doesn't want to venture into the female dorms and honestly, the idea of her being around Hanji again while intoxicated makes him anxious.

She can sleep on his floor for all he cares. It's better than being in some alley or ditch or __jail cell__, so really, he's already done his part. He repeats this to himself as he eyes her curled up form near the foot of his bed. He didn't make her do that. He just brought her back to his room, stepped into the bathroom for a moment to change and came back to see her on the floor.

"You look like a dog."

She cracks an eye open and grins up at him. "What kind of dog?"

"A needy one that I had to pick up from the pound."

He shakes his head and goes back to bed. She'll be fine. They're silent for a good ten minutes until—

"Heichou?"

"Go to sleep, Petra."

"I can't."

"Go the fuck to sleep."

"I __can't__. The __sky's__ awake, so __I'm__ awake."

"What? __What__?"

"Levi, I'm cold."

He grunts. "Tough shit."

"But Levi!" she says, drawing out his name with a lengthy whine.

"__What__?"

"Can I sleep in the bed with you?"

He snorts. "No."

"What?" She actually sounds offended. "Why the hell not?"

Levi sighs heavily. "Because you're fucking filthy, Petra. You've been on that floor for the past fifteen minutes, you walked into practically every wall we passed by on our way back from the __jail__ you were in, and frankly you kind of smell." He's pretty sure it's from that drink on her shirt that made it more so onto her clothes than into her mouth. He clarifies, lest he offends her, "Or well, your shirt smells."

"I'm not __really __dirty! I mean this is __your__ room so it has to be clean, right? I'm pretty sure I can lick the floor and all I'd taste is disinfectant."

"…"

"…"

"You licked the floor didn't you?"

"…of course not!"

With a noise of exasperation, Levi kicks the blanket off the bed, assuming it landed on her judging by the "oomph!" he hears. Personally, he can bear with the slight chill of night. He usually gets really warm over the course of the night and ends up waking up with his blanket shoved down by the foot of his bed anyway. He hears a rustle of fabric and figures she's trying to somehow swaddle herself so she can fall asleep. He assumes he's in the clear and tries to get __some__sleep but opens his eyes when he feels someone staring at him.

Naturally, it's Petra.

"What __now__?" he asks. She looks ridiculous with the way her chin rests on the edge of the mattress. She's either kneeling or sitting. Either way she's shamelessly interrupting his rest again.

Petra pouts. "Won't you get cold?"

"I'll be fine."

"Are you sure? We can share."

Levi pinches the bridge of his nose and wonders why he's tolerating this crap. Had this been Erd or Gunther or Auruo, he would have let them rot in jail over night to teach them a lesson. Yet here he is with Petra at the foot of his bed, his blanket wrapped around her while she babbled the night away with wine on her breath.

"I'll be fine," he repeats. He flips onto his stomach and buries his face into his pillow, hoping that maybe if she's out of sight, she'll also be out of mind. This seems to work because she's gone silent and it's almost like she's not even there. He hears her moving around with the blanket again, but chooses against telling her to stop in case she takes that as an invitation to chat.

Then the bed dips.

The soldier in Levi is quick to turn around at the slight movement. "What the ever loving __fuck__, Pet—" His mouth goes dry and he squeezes his eyes shut, more irritated than embarrassed. "Dammit, Petra, __where the hell are your clothes__?"

But Petra isn't fazed by his angry voice, opting to plop down beside him clad in her underwear. "You said I was dirty because of them. Now I'm not dirty." She shrugs. "Besides, you've seen me naked before."

"That was __once__ and that was an __accident__."

"Whatever."

She arranges the blanket to cover the both of them and Levi stares at the ceiling, trying to figure out where exactly he went wrong over the past few hours. It was probably when Petra looked at him like she was asking for his permission after Hanji asked her to come along and, like an idiot, he told her to do whatever she wanted. He doesn't even flinch when she presses against his side.

"Oh, my god, you're so hot," she moans.

For a moment he's worried she's about to attempt some embarrassing drunken seduction.

Then she adds, "You're like a huggable fire."

Levi brings a palm to his face and sighs for what he hopes is the last time that night. "Petra." A lecture about self-control and propriety and staying away from Hanji rests at the tip of his tongue.

"Yes?" Her words are becoming slurred, which he takes as a sign that she's ready to actually sleep.

"You are so fucking annoying."

But she just giggles and presses her cheek against his shoulder. "Go to sleep, Levi."


	3. daddy's girl

****Summary:**** She's her daddy's little girl and she makes sure to always play the part.  
><strong>CharactersPairings:** Petra-centric with a dash of Levi; mild Rivetra

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><p>When Petra visits her father, she's always careful to look like anything but a soldier.<p>

She'll wear a pretty little dress and hide every sign that she's just gotten home from an expedition. She'll brush her hair and do something nice with it. She'll paint her lips a light shade of pink and she'll pinch her cheeks ever so slightly to force a flush. She'll smile and hug him and she'll giggle at each of his silly little jokes. She'll act like a child even though she's actually a twenty-two-year-old woman, not some simpering little girl.

It's for the best, really.

Petra would rather pretend to be someone she's not than listen to her dad beg her not to leave for the umpteenth time. He'll tell her about how this friend has a son around her age—single, wants to be a doctor, looking for a nice girl. He'll mention the seamstress down the street who's looking for an apprentice—a nice young lady, hardworking and helpful, a quick learner. He'll bring up every possible argument he can think of to keep her from leaving again, eyeing the wings on her jacket with trepidation, but Petra's come to learn that if she can distract him with the image of the girl he wants her to be rather than the one that she actually is, he actually, finally, shuts the fuck up.

This time around, she's been unable to see him for months and when her hair brushes just past her shoulders, she chooses not to cut it. Let it grow, she decides. She'll look more like his little girl that way.

She'll look less like __Petra__.

So she leaves it and it bothers her and she pulls it into a low ponytail that falls limply over her shoulder. She looks more tired than usual, but that's nothing a little makeup and a brighter than normal smile can't fix. She settles on a plain beige skirt and a plain pink blouse and dons a plain cream cardigan. She nods to herself, once, twice, and decides that yes, every cut and bruise and scar that decorates her body has been carefully concealed.

"I don't get why you do that," Levi says, eyeing her eye herself.

But Levi doesn't get a lot of things, Petra considers. Levi doesn't get that just because something doesn't gleam doesn't mean it isn't clean. Levi doesn't get that sometimes the new recruits just need gentle—__gentle__—guidance. And Levi certainly doesn't get that sometimes people want more than kisses in corridors and two in the morning trysts.

"What do I do?"

"Play dress up."

"You don't like my outfit?"

"I hate your outfit."

"And what would you have me wear instead?" She comes to sit at the edge of the bed so he props himself up on his elbows. "The uniform I can never really get the blood and dirt stains out of?" He says nothing and she smiles. "Or," she purrs, "I suppose you'd like me best in nothing at all."

But for all things he doesn't get, Levi does actually get her moods. He understands that when she's happy, she's quiet and all smiles. When she's sad, she babbles in some pathetic attempt at a cover up. And when she's mad, she's a discomforting combination of flirtatious and snide, using her words like weapons.

"You're angry."

"Nonsense."

"You are."

She laughs breathlessly. One hand rests on the bed as she puts her weight on it. "At who? About what?"

"Me?" he suggests, knowing that that's not true. "Yourself? No." He sits up, the white sheet pooling in his lap. "That's not it. It's your dad, right?"

Petra stiffens. "Now why—"

"You're the only person who knows __why__, Petra."

Her jaw clenches and it's actually starting to hurt a little since she's been doing that a lot since she set up a date to go visit her father.

She loves him. He's the man who rocked her swaddled form when she fussed, who cleaned her scraped knees as a toddler, who snuck her small treats when her mother wasn't looking, who learned how to braid hair because her mother was gone and no one else could do it for her. He read her stories and wiped her tears and beamed at all of her accomplishments up until she told him she ranked third in the 99th graduating class. She loves him so much because he's all the family she has left and he loves her for the same reason, but she can't stand the way his eyes always plead with her whenever she stays under his roof.

She's a soldier. She fights partly for humanity, but mostly for the wind that tangles her hair, the rush of swinging from building to building, tree to tree, the triumph of bringing down another titan, the speed of her horse, the relief of protecting a comrade, the pride of serving in the Special Ops Squad. Petra fights because the thought of being some cranky old spinster's apprentice or some sweet young man's pretty little wife makes her nauseous.

All she wants to do is fly, but her dad doesn't get that.

Please don't go—

You might __die__—

You're the only girl on this team—

I don't know how I feel about—

Actually I know this nice boy—

__Titans__, Petra—

My sweet little girl—

Petra releases a quiet breath and stands. She looks at Levi. "I don't know what you're talking about," she tells him finally. She glances at his clothes on the chair, neatly folded and neatly stacked. "Anyway, you should go."

He raises an eyebrow at her curiously but she ignores the gesture.

She continues staring at him, unmoving, so he relents and begins to dress. She feels mildly unnerved by the way he watches her the entire time.

"You don't—" Levi stops himself. He sighs and steps outside when he's finally fully clothed. "You should never feel obligated to live up to another person's image of you. That's their problem, not yours."

Of course, she supposes, Levi's an expert on that, being Humanity's Strongest and all. But she repeats herself, "I don't know—"

"What I'm talking about. Of course you don't."

"I don't."

And then Petra closes the door in his face. She goes to her trunk and rummages through it until she finds a small tube of pink lipstick, a relic of her mother's. She swipes it across her lips, smiles primly, and then grabs her coat.

It's time to see her father.


	4. drunk ii

When Petra wakes up, the first thing she notices is that she's incredibly warm.

It's been rather chilly lately, and she swears that there's a draft in the dorms, but the others always tell that her she's crazy and to just layer up. So, naturally she's grateful for her cuddly furnace. That is, of course, until said cuddly furnace grunts and shifts and releases a few expletives Petra knows her captain favours. She should probably feel a lot more embarrassed or shocked about waking up next to Levi, but Petra is, ultimately, a woman of logic and knows that there are more important things that need to be dealt with.

More specially, reasons at to why the hell everything hurts.

She had been drinking last night. That much explains the pounding headache and the churning in her stomach, but that __doesn't__ explain why the rest of her body aches. Her back is stiff, her shoulders are sore, and she's pretty sure her entire body is battered and bruised.

And suddenly Petra would rather deal with a horde of a dozen titans than deal with all of this pain.

"I think I'm dying," she tells her cuddly furnace, well aware that it's just Levi.

"Good."

"No, seriously. I think I'm going to die. Just wait for it." She nods, her messy hair moving around on the pillow. "Yes. I am now dead."

"Wonderful."

She cracks an eye open to glare at him. He rests on his side like her, facing her directly and scowling. "One day," she says, "I will actually die. I will die valiantly in battle protecting a comrade or a maybe even a captain. Or I will fall off my horse and snap my neck. Or I will slip in the shower and… and just die." She ignores the way Levi grimaces at each hypothetical situation. "I will actually die one day and you will feel very bad for celebrating my current death."

Levi just sighs. "You're not dead."

"But I will be."

"Stop being stupid."

"You don't understand. Everything in me hurts."

"That's just the shame working its way through your body."

"Fuck off."

"It'll go away after you apologize for being a little shit and interrupting my night."

She frowns because to be fair, she doesn't remember much of the night beyond Hanji handing her another drink and saying something along the lines of __I have the greatest idea ever—it's slightly illegal but it's totally badass__.

"Was I __that__ bad?" she asks, actually a bit worried.

He sighs and falls onto his back. "No. Yes." He shrugs. "It doesn't matter anymore."

Feeling guilty, she moves closer, resting her head on his chest. "I'll make it up to you," she mumbles against his skin.

He snorts. "You better." Then he moves, sitting up and bringing her with him despite her protests. He smirks down at her, his thumb resting under her chin to keep her focused. "Now what did you learn?" he asks, using the most patronizing voice he can muster.

She scowls at him. "That you're a little bitc—"

"__What did you learn__?"

"That getting drunk is stupid," she mumbles petulantly, "and drinking with Hanji is even stupider."

He pats her on the head and she kicks him under the blanket.


	5. modern au i

****Summary:**** modern-AU in which Levi is a disgruntled TA and Petra is a temp in the building he works at.

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><p>In retrospect, Levi can't quite pinpoint the exact moment he met her.<p>

He finds traces of her in his memories, starting with a lab in the first semester of first year (she's insistent that this actually happened), and ending with the more recent sight of her body draped languidly across his duvet. In between he sees the tips of chewed pen caps, boldly coloured tights, and nearly completed crossword puzzles. He smells French Vanilla and hears the drizzle of it echoing off the walls of the staff room. He hears typing and clicking and the annoying ring of the phone and then he hears her voice asking—

"Can I help you?"

Levi eyes the stapler on the front counter of the admissions office. It's really meant for students to use when they've just printed off their work five minutes before class and need to staple it in the next four, not TAs who were a bit behind on things. He supposes he should feel a bit more ashamed about being as unprepared as he is for the tutorial __he__ is supposed to be leading. It wasn't his fault, really. Why would the department's photocopier have a stapling option if the machine didn't actually successful staple things together?

In the end, he finds that he doesn't really care, but it's the start of a new year and according to Hanji, the money in the Asshole Jar is going towards her new laptop this time around. When they counted it back in December, Erwin used a good chunk of it to get some ridiculous bolo tie that he genuinely thinks makes him look good, while Mike used his share for god knows what.

So mostly out of spite, Levi tries to be nice.

He looks at the person behind the desk. "Just using the stapler," he says, pointing to it and waiting for her approval as per social cues.

"Oh." She grins at him so widely that he's a little unnerved. "Yes, of course. Go ahead."

Levi nods. "Thanks," he mumbles, holding back a wince. Personally, he hates mumbling and he hates hearing other people do it even more. Levi's the sort of person that believes in enunciation, whether that be for a "fine" or a "fuck you."

She spares him the small talk, opting to smile, nod, and then resume her work.

He staples all of his handouts, mentally cursing the shitty stapling function of the department photocopier and then considering whether or not being an asshole in his mind requires him to put money in the jar. Then he realizes he's an idiot for even thinking about that – it's not like Hanji can read his mind (right?) – and begins to focus on even more unnecessary things like how many of those little shits are going to skip tutorial and email him about feigned sickness. Or what stupid and/or potentially harmful concoction Hanji is brewing back at the house. Or whether or not he's obligated to say thank you a second time since the first thank you was for permission to use the stapler but the second thank you would be for actually using the stapler.

Levi sighs and wills himself to stop thinking.

"Thank you," he repeats because whether or not the thank you is necessary, he's trying to start this niceness habit to avoid having to add to the Asshole Jar.

She looks up from whatever she's doing on her computer to grin at him again. "Not a problem."

And then because he's an idiot or because he's awkward, Levi stands there for a moment, taking in the sight of her while pretending to be arranging his handouts. Her short copper hair falls just past her chin and she wears plain neutral colours. She looks like she's trying to blend in the walls yet Levi can't help noticing the way she pops out to him.

Honestly, it's her mouth. It's the way her lips jut out when she's reading something on the screen – most likely an inquiry from a student – followed up them opening up ever slightly, most likely to mumble something along the lines of a "what the actual fuck?" Then she purses them, quirks them to one side in some acceptance of the stupidity of student kind, and then grins grimly.

"Was there anything else you needed?"

He almost jumps. Her head is cocked as she looks at him expectantly.

"No," Levi replies. He nods to her but mostly to convince himself that no, he does not need something—not her name and certainly not her number. "Thank you," he says on more time before turning on his heal and exiting the office.


	6. dress

****Summary: ****(pre-57th expedition) Levi already knew that Petra planned to devote herself to him because he planned to devote himself to her too.

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><p>Levi doesn't know much about weddings.<p>

He understands that they're joyful events where two people promise to spend the rest of lives together, seal the deal with a kiss, and then celebrate by sharing food and alcohol with their family and friends. He knows that the man wears a suit and the woman wears a white dress. He gets that people cherish weddings, that little girls dream of them, mothers sob happily over them, and fathers sort of dread them. He knows that the groom used to be expected to ask the bride's father for permission to propose, but that that tradition has died down. He understands that you need something borrowed, blue, old, and new, that there should be fun and dancing and slight inebriation, that the bride throws the bouquet into a horde of single women, and that it's considered bad luck to see the bride in her dress before the ceremony.

Still, he can't help himself from peeking through the small crack between the door and the frame because he sees a swish of white and hears a giggle coming from Petra's room.

He smirks and opens the door slowly, doing so loudly enough that she can definitely tell he's coming in.

And just like that, she shrieks. "Levi!" She makes a poor attempt at covering herself with the green cloak she wears every day. "You can't look at me!"

He rolls his eyes. "And why the fuck not?"

"Because it's bad luck!"

"Tch." Levi tugs the cloak away from her and tosses it on her chair. "That's stupid."

"Oh, Levi." Her shoulders fall and she just shakes her head at his attitude. Eventually she smiles and does a small twirl. "Well, do I at least look nice?"

He eyes her white dress with its tight bodice and the full skirt that drops to the floor. The sleeves are made to fall off her shoulders, lacy and luxurious and a little bit pointless beyond being used for looking pretty. Her hair is messy from a day of running formations with Auruo and Gunther and Erd outside, and there's a smudge of what looks like soot on the side of her face, but fucking hell, Levi thinks, she looks beautiful.

"Yes," he says simply.

He reaches out tentatively, almost afraid that if he touches the fragile lace he might ruin it somehow. She seem to notice his reluctance because she meets him halfway instead, guiding his hands to her waist and leaning forward to kiss him. For a moment, Levi relaxes and tells himself that this is something he can get used to – that this a woman he can get used to.

"Your dad is really okay with this?" he asks. Petra tenses slightly, but Levi still needs to make sure. Hardened bastard that he may be, he still wants her father's blessing.

But Petra pulls away to grin at him. "Of course," she says, now looking at his cravat and straightening it. "Of course he is."

"And we're meeting him in Karanese still?" He glares at her when she rolls her eyes the way she usually does when he triple checks the details of their small, secret wedding. They're literally only inviting her father, but he can't help his need to check and recheck everything.

"Yes, Levi," she responds exasperatedly. She sighs and kisses him on the cheek once more. "Right after we return from the 57th expedition."


	7. civvies

****Summary:**** She squeezes her eyes shut for a brief moment and considers that yes, she would very much like to lick him.

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><p>One day Petra sees Levi out of uniform and she wants to die.<p>

Are you kidding me? she thinks, very much enjoying how snugly the off white shirt fits his body over breakfast. He was supposed to have laced up the top of it but in a uncharacteristic stroke of laziness, he didn't, letting the top fall open and expose the usually covered up expanse of his neck and collarbone.

Petra puts all her energy into staring intently at the table, but every so often she has to look up when someone is speaking to her. She'll just nod or grunt or shake her head, because really, __really__, how the hell can she pay attention to pointless conversation when Levi is sitting there like that.

She squeezes her eyes shut for a brief moment and considers that yes, she would very much like to lick him.

__Fuck__.

Stop that! she tells herself.

Petra sighs and lifts her cup of tea, purposely covering her mouth. She goes through an awkward cycle of smirking and grimacing and cringing and holding back little schoolgirl giggles.

Eventually Auruo frowns at her. "Hey, Petra," he says, actually sounding mildly concerned. "Are you okay? You're getting really red and you've been making faces all morning."

She wants to pummel him despite the sentiments.

"I'm fine," she bites out. They all look at her, Levi and tight shirt included, and she looks at her cup intently. "I'm __fine__."

Auruo shrugs. "Just checking."

They resume whatever conversation they were having while Petra resumes __not__thinking about all the things she'd do too her captain on this fairly sturdy table if they were alone. She's about to give her mental approval for idea number fourteen when she looks up and sees Levi staring at her and smirking ever so slightly. He puts down his cup of coffee and leans back into his chair, crossing his arms over his chest, still holding her gaze.

And then Petra bows her head and sighs to herself because fucking hell, she's going to __die__.


	8. airport

****Summary:**** There's an ice storm outside and a crazy girl beside him, yet somehow this birthday isn't so bad.

* * *

><p>They meet an hour before his birthday.<p>

It's Christmas Eve and it's almost his birthday and he's slouched slightly on a poorly cushioned seat with his legs propped up on his carry-on suitcase. He should be more upset, he supposes, about not being able to get back home for the holidays, but for whatever reason, the only thing his mind can focus on is how fucking stupid Flappy Bird is and for the love all things fucking holy, he didn't intend for the Bird to flap that high and just fucking hell.

Right.

He's probably making faces or swearing audibly or just grunting like some weirdo, but it all ends with him looking up to see her grinning at him shyly from the row of seats across from him.

"Can I help you?" he asks.

She flushes slightly. "Um. Hi." She sits up straight, her knees pulled together and her hands resting on them. "So this is a bit of a weird question but see I'm sort of an idiot and put my phone charger in my check-in luggage and now my phone is at 33% battery and well I noticed you have an S3 also and uh, by any chance do you have a charger I can borrow?"

He probably makes a questionably rude face because suddenly she cringes.

"I mean, only if you don't mind. See, I left mine in my check-in on purpose in some stupid attempt to make myself read a book or something, rather than play games on my phone." She looks sullenly at the copy of __Les Mis__ sitting on top of her purse. "But I completely understand if you say no. I mean I could totally just buy a new charger at one of those stores in the airport, except they sort of jack the prices up ridiculously high."

And then suddenly she stands, grabbing her purse in one hand and holding the handle of her luggage in the other.

"Actually, you know what? Ignore me. I'm just going to just buy a new one."

But he's already reaching into his messenger bag. "Don't be stupid," he says, holding the tangled charger out to her.

She looks at it and then at him before hesitantly taking it. He rolls his eyes at this. She's the one that asked for it so why did she look so reluctant to take it?

"Thanks," she says. She sits back down and drops her things none too gracefully. "I'm Petra."

"Levi."

"Where are you going?"

He snorts and glances outside. "Nowhere at this point."

She laughs. "Yeah, I know what you mean." Outside the city is dark but they both know that everything is covered in ice. There are broken trees and downed powerlines and the airport is reluctant to let any flights leave, Christmas be damned. She finally plugs in her phone with one of the outlets in the ground and then she sighs. "It's such a shame. I was supposed to see my dad tonight." She shrugs. "Well hopefully he's with the rest of the family… What about you?"

"What about me?"

"Do you celebrate Christmas?"

"Not really."

"Oh, what do you celebrate?"

He shrugs. "My birthday, I guess."

Her jaw drops open. "What?" She takes a glance at her watch and then looks back at him with wide eyes. "Are you trying to tell me that your birthday is on Christmas Day and thus in a grand total of forty-seven minutes and you're stuck spending it in an airport?"

"I guess?"

She stands immediately. "I will not sit by and let your birthday be another terrible airport experience. Watch my stuff!" she orders, grabbing her purse but leaving her luggage and coat.

Levi frowns at her. "Really? You're actually going to leave your things with a complete stranger?"

"Like I have anything of value," she says with a laugh. "I assure you I'm leaving you with nothing more than clothes, toiletries, and untouched copy of __Les Mis__. If you try robbing me, the joke's on you."

"And your phone?"

She laughs even louder. "Oh, please. Have you looked at it? No one would want that." He glances at the cracked screen and winces. "Now you just sit here," she orders. "Seriously."

"You're crazy," he tells her as she walks away, but she only waves a hand and goes on her way.

He sits there with his stuff and hers and feels deeply uncomfortable being responsible for this complete stranger's possessions. Levi sighs. Of course this would be how he would spend Christmas Eve – stuck in an airport with a ton of other grumpy fliers, unable to leave because of the stupid ice storm, and now watching the belongings of some weird girl that needed to use his phone charger and who was now trying to throw him a makeshift birthday party. He's not too sure where he went wrong in their conversation. He kept his answers clipped and minimal, but somehow she managed to keep the dialogue going.

Levi sits there for a total of twenty-four minutes, contemplating whether or not he should sit at another gate when she comes back because this girl might be crazy, but then she returns and greets him loudly.

He eyes her empty hands and she shrugs.

"I was rushing and it occurred to me in the gift shop that, um, I know absolutely nothing about you and nothing frustrates me more than gifts that had no thought put into them so I decided not to bother." She sits down beside him and sighs. "But!" She reaches into her bag and takes out a plastic container with a slice of what looks like red velvet cake in it. "I did stop at the coffee shop for some cake!" She takes out two forks and holds one out to him. "It's red velvet," she confirms. "Um, part of that knowing absolutely nothing about you thing includes not knowing your cake preferences – assuming you like cake, that is – but I'm a huge fan of red velvet and decided I'd force it on you. Sound good?"

Levi just shakes his head. "Sounds good."

"Great," she says. "Now how do you feel about sharing food?"

"I fucking hate it."

Petra laughs. "Then let's do it."

And he does, oddly enough, without any visible grimacing or pissy comments. He takes the second fork and eats the cake, taking from the top layer while she took from the bottom one. He tells her that red velvet is his mother's favourite cake so he eats it too, but his favourite cake is actually black forest. She tells him that he's disgusting and crazy and that black forest cake is "actually the worst." They talk about their families and their friends and where they're going and what they're doing and everything and anything. And then she pauses, looks at her watch, and then holds it in his face so that he can read the time.

"Happy birthday, Levi."

"Thanks."

"We should do this again," she tells him. "I mean without an ice storm."

Levi smirks. "And not in an airport."

She grins back at him. "I'd like that."

And so would he.


	9. black tea

****Summary: ****Levi doesn't quite like coffee anymore.****  
>Note:<strong>** This will make better sense if you follow the manga and have read Chapter 54. But if you haven't, I think this can still work as a stand alone thing. Enjoy!

* * *

><p>There was nothing special about her coffee, but he always liked it most.<p>

Among his subordinates, hers was always the one that always tasted the best, although there was nothing spectacular or unique about her how she prepared it. She used the same beans as everyone else, though he supposes the fact that she would grind them every morning did make a bit of a difference. Still, there was no milk or cream or sugar. No honey, no special sort of sweetener. It was always just plain black coffee in the same plain white mug, but somehow it always made his morning a bit better to have her place the cup in front of him.

He thinks that he should have asked about what she did to make her coffee so much better than everyone else's back when she was still alive because it's too late now, and now he's stuck drinking the acidic concoction Mikasa makes or the watery mess that Sasha brews.

One morning Historia prepares it and Levi hopes that maybe hers will be better than the others', but he finds himself barely holding back his grimace when the coffee slips into his mouth and god fucking dammit does he miss Petra.

He always misses Petra, to be fair. It's not like she's always on his mind. No, that would be absurd and utterly ridiculous considering the fact that there are way more important matters to be dealing with like how the hell to keep Eren and Historia hidden while, you know, overthrowing the fucking government. He misses Petra the same way that he breathes and blinks and disregards social niceties. His mind doesn't linger on her and he's not sentimental enough to let things remind him of her, but he swears that sometimes he can hear her voice or feel her hand on his and then he spares her a moment or two before resuming whatever was occupying him.

"So far," he hears Connie say, bringing him out of his thoughts, "Historia's coffee tastes the least like crap."

There's a yelp and judging by Sasha's glower, she kicked Connie under the table. "Why don't __you__ try making it instead?"

Connie snorts. "Tch, maybe I will."

Jean jumps in to defend Mikasa's brew, prompting Eren to do the same but somehow go against Jean at the same time. Armin tries to calm them down, because for the love of all things holy, you morons are fighting over __coffee__, and as the members of his brand new squad squabble like the children they are, Levi feels the soft touch of a hand on his arm. He thinks he hears a laugh behind him, but he doesn't dare look over his shoulder.

From then on Levi only drinks black tea.


	10. barren

**Summary:** Petra makes a confession.

* * *

><p>"Does it bother you?"<p>

Levi doesn't know how to answer her question, so he deflects it instead. "Should it?"

It was such an odd thing to say and at such an odd time. There's nothing special going on today, but they really need to get down to breakfast to keep up appearances. Yet there she stands, her shirt only partially buttoned and her pants still on the floor, watching him like a hawk. She doesn't look sad or mad or hurt in any way. She's just observing and it makes him uncomfortable. She continues to unnerve him with her gaze as he stares back at her while adjusting his cravat.

"No," she eventually says, "I suppose it shouldn't."

The words sound cold coming out of her mouth. Still, she doesn't look like he's hurt her feelings.

Levi clears his throat, uncomfortable with the silence. "When did you find out?" he asks.

"After the second expedition we went on after our squad was formed," she says. "Do you remember what happened?"

He winces, recalling the unsettling sound of cracking and a profuse amount of blood. But more importantly, "Petra, that was three years ago."

She shrugs. "It wasn't relevant then."

"And it's relevant now?"

There. Finally, she recoils slightly.

"I don't know," she eventually says. "I just thought…" Petra sighs and keeps her hands busy by playing with the hem of her shirt. "We've been doing this for nearly eight months now. I don't know where we're going and I know that you don't either, but I know that I care about you and that I like being with you." She doesn't blush or stammer or stumble over the course of her confession. "I just wanted to be honest with you in case at some point down the line we're still together and you want to start a family and I can't have children." She stops and grimaces, finally faltering. "I just wanted to be honest with you, Levi."

So he decides to be honest with her too.

"I don't like children," he says carefully. "All they do is eat, shit, and cry. They're necessary, I guess, but they're more trouble than they're worth." He steps towards her until he's inches away because he wants her to understand this truth. "Personally, I don't want any."

And just like that, the tension eases off of her and she smiles. Her head is bowed and he thinks he hears a sob, but he keeps his eyes trained on the top of her head out of decency. When she finally looks up, she kisses him and holds him and he thinks about how he doesn't need a family because he already has her.


	11. gossip

**Summary:** Petra likes to gossip with just about anyone - even Levi.

* * *

><p>For the most part, on the nights when Petra's restless or talkative or simply cannot sleep, Levi will grunt in response to whatever comes out of her mouth and she'll accept his answers and carry on with her one-sided conversations. As long as his grip on her changes here and there indicating that he's lucid and he contributes an occasional combination of a noun and a verb as opposed to the usual "yes," "sure," andor "whatever" response, Petra is satisfied.

But then there are the nights where she wants them to __communicate__, and although Levi has never actually kicked her out of his room before, those are the nights when he genuinely contemplates it.

"So what do you think of the new recruits?" she asks him one night.

Levi should feel entirely at ease right now, with his body settled in the mattress, his lover pressed against his side, and the sweat from their previous activities cooling on his skin. His eyelids feel heavy and he really wants nothing more than to sleep but then there's Petra.

Petra who is __talking__.

"They look like idiots," Levi says. Lucky idiots though, maybe even skilled ones considering they survived everything that happened in Trost.

"Don't be rude."

He shrugs. "You asked."

"Right." She rolls her eyes and presses her head against his shoulder. She traces patterns along his skin and he knows she's itching to say something. He wonders if he should ask but she beats him to it first. "So Jean totally has a crush on Mikasa," she begins, turning onto her stomach and propping herself up a bit so that she can look at him. "And I think Ymir and Christa are special friends. Also I swear to god Reiner stuffs his bra because how does he have bigger boobs than me."

"Really?" Levi sighs. "You want to gossip about the new kids, Petra?"

"Hey, I gossip about the old ones too," she says. "For example, once I caught Erd—"

"Don't."

"But—"

"I don't want to know."

"__But__—"

"Petra." She pouts but he just brings a hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose. "It's like two in the morning. You can talk shit with Auruo over breakfast." He knows for a fact that the two of them like to sit at the back of the room sometimes and judge other people quietly, particularly when a fresh batch of graduates arrive, but Levi wants absolutely no part in there gossiping.

"Fine," she grumbles, plopping down beside him. "You're no fun."

"Tough shit."

He closes his eyes and hopes for a moment that maybe he'll fall asleep but he feels her gaze so he glares at her. "What now?"

"But seriously, don't you want to know what I found out about Erd—"

"__Petra__."

"Okay, okay!"


	12. valentine's day

**Summary: **Would you like to do something for Valentine's Day?

* * *

><p>Levi doesn't regret many things. Sure, he regrets circumstances and other matters that are out of his hands like the number of comrades he's lost over the years, but he rarely feels the need to apologize for his own words or actions. Levi speaks and moves with purpose, whether that be to hurt or make a point or put someone in their place.<p>

But for some reason he feels the choking grip of regret right now.

"Would you like to do something for Valentine's Day?" she had asked him. In retrospect, he should have seen the way she looked at the ground to hide her flush.

And Levi didn't even have to think about it. "Not really," he replied without skipping a beat. His eyes remained on the report in front of him.

"Oh." He looked up at that. The defeat in her voice was palpable.

"Valentine's Day is stupid," he explained. But the words just sounded callous in his ears. "I mean—"

"Yeah, you're right," she said firmly, shutting down anything else he might have said. Then she left under the guise of not feeling well and slept in her own bed while Levi slept in the nagging grip of guilt.

So they treat Valentine's Day like it's any other day, complete with Erd gushing over his lady love who's coming up to visit him in the evening, with Gunther sharing some treats he received from his mother and grandmother and another person that they all insist is a secret admirer, and with Petra and Auruo playfully bickering over this and that, particularly who would get to eat the last cookie from Gunther's mother. They go through drills and they spar and they clean. Petra treats the day like any other one and makes no indication that she resents his callous response from last night, nor does she make any move that goes against his wish to ignore the holiday.

And when the day concludes with her mumbling a "Goodnight" after dinner and spending the night in her own room for the first time in months, Levi can't help but give in to the hungry gnaw of regret.


	13. modern au ii

**Summary: **continuation to chapter 5

* * *

><p>When he sees her again, she looks nothing like she did the first time. Instead of the boring cream blouse tucked into the boring grey slacks that hang over boring brown loafers, she wears a patterned dress and navy blue tights. Isabel absolutely hated blue tights, he remembers, always complaining about how they didn't match anything and then complaining some more when Levi would tell her to shut the hell up.<p>

Then he realizes that he's staring again and he wants to punch himself.

She stands in front of the coffee machine balancing her weight from one foot to the other with a frown on her face and a mug in her hand. It's blue with a fish on it and it takes him a moment to realize that it's actually the sigil of House Tully. Then he curses his roommates for making him watch Game of Thrones with them every Sunday night.

"So many choices…"

He snorts and then she stumbles. She looks to her right with wide eyes and he realizes that maybe he's a bit of a creepy bastard.

"Are you going to get coffee?" he asks. The question comes out a bit ruder than he intended.

But she doesn't seem fazed. She blushes. "Right. Sorry," she says. "You can use it first. I'm still thinking, really."

Levi shrugs. "Sure." He puts down his own mug, white and glossy, and makes a conscious attempt to hide the fact that there's a direwolf on one side of it. Mike had gotten it for him for Christmas, joking that it would be a good conversation starter for Levi at work and dammit was he right.

He selects the plain black coffee and they stand side by side with nothing but the sound of the coffee drizzling into his cup filling the room.

"Well this is awkward," he hears her say. She doesn't mumble it. She says it as easily as she would say that the sky is blue, that her mug is blue, that her tights are blue. She turns slightly and there's a wide smile on her face when extends a hand to him. "I'm Petra."

"Levi," he replies, looking at her hand and wondering if she's washed it recently. What if she's one of those people that takes the subway to work and her hands are covered in god knows what? He bites back a grimace and shakes her hand, remembering his resolution to play nice this year. His nostrils flare when he thinks about how much of his money is currently sitting in that old pickle jar (the smaller mason jar proved to not be big enough for Levi's tendencies). "Stupid Asshole Jar."

"Asshole Jar?"

His eyes widen when he realizes he said that out loud. Petra looks at him with curiosity in her eyes. He has no choice but to own it.

"Yes. My housemates have this Asshole Jar in the kitchen. I'm supposed to put money in it every time I say something rude."

"Oh." Petra's face turns contemplative and he wonders if she's going to back away from him now that she knows he's such a tool that he has to be conditioned out of being one. Then she grins. "That's awesome!" she exclaims. She laughs. "I really like that. I should make one of those for my friend Auruo. He always says some of the most ridiculous things." She eyes him when he deigns to retrieve his now full mug. "But you don't seem like an asshole." He quirks an eyebrow and she laughs even harder. "Fine, not a _complete_ asshole."

He nods once and there's a slight smirk tugging at his lips. "I did jump in front of you for the coffee machine."

"That's true," she concedes. "And after all I've done for you."

"Please."

"I saved you from going to a tutorial with handouts that weren't stapled," she points out. "I'd say I did you a great service, Levi."

He pauses, taking in the way she says his name and then finding it weird that he had to take a moment for that. "I suppose you did," he replies, his eyes trained on hers, "Petra." Her smile widens and he almost smiles back but the coffee maker beeps to signal that it's ready to be used again and he turns away abruptly. Levi busies himself with putting cream and sugar into his coffee despite how much he hates the two because for whatever reason, he wants to stick around a little longer. "Make a decision?"

She places her blue mug under the machine. "French vanilla."

"Ew."

"Are you one of those people that don't like sweet things?" He doesn't answer but she sighs dramatically all the same. "What a pity. I guess we can't be friends now."

"And why is that?"

"I can't be friends with someone that doesn't have a sweet tooth."

"On the contrary, those are the only people you should be friends with."

"Oh?"

Levi shrugs. "We're no threat to the stash of sweets you probably keep in one of your desk drawers."

"This is true!" She takes her mug out, letting the strong smell of vanilla spread. "Well then," she says, "I guess we're going to make great friends."

He nods. "I suppose we will."


	14. flirt

**Summary: **Levi meets Petra for the first time.

* * *

><p>He's a bit of a dick to her when they first meet. To be fair, Levi's a dick to everyone, but with her, he couldn't help himself.<p>

He blames her hair, copper and shiny and grazing the small of her back. For some reason it just distracts him with the way her ponytail divides the two wings stamped on her back. Or the way her braid swishes back and forth every time she moves. Or even the way she twists it into a bun and all he's able to think about is how misleading that bundle of hair is because he _knows_ it's much longer than that. He finds it annoying that she'll untie or unravel or unwind it when they stop for the evening before brushing those reddish locks with utmost care.

All he can think about is her hair and it drives him nuts because not only is he supposed to be doing the basics (e.g. killing titans), but according to Erwin, he's supposed to be scoping the soldiers to form a Special Operations Squad he would lead.

But her hair distracts him therefore she distracts him and therefore she infuriates him without even trying, and then one minute they're in the middle of standard titan evasion, and the next, he's blaming her for whatever minute thing she did that didn't meet his standards.

So when they finally make it back inside the walls, Levi thinks back on his behaviour and almost winces.

He looks at the girl—the _woman_—named Petra Ral whose copper hair is currently pulled back into a tight bun, hiding just how long it is, most likely because she's caught him not so subtly staring at it. She sits on her horse with her back straight and her gaze set forward. There's blood and dirt on her clothes, but Levi notes the way the townspeople watch her, most likely preferring to look at the pretty young thing poised and perfect instead of the horse-pulled carriages that hold god knows what.

"Ral," Levi calls.

He notes the way she purses her lips and barely fights down a cringe. Understandable. Every time he spoke to her on this expedition was to scold her for something.

She turns to him. "Captain?"

"You…" Levi clears his throat. "You fight good."

Her eyes widen a fraction and her jaw drops. "What?"

"You fight good," Levi repeats, this time louder and firmer.

"Oh." She smiles tightly. "Er, thank you, sir."

Levi nods. "I was watching you." The words sound undeniably creepy even to his ears. "I mean, out on the field." Her smile fades into a scowl, because no shit he was watching her with how much he was criticizing her. "I mean…" Levi stops and sighs and just goes back to his original argument. "You fight good, Ral."

She laughs but Levi can see how badly she wants to be anywhere but beside him. "Thank you," she says. "Really."

Eventually they near headquarters and she mumbles some excuse before pulling her horse a little to the right for the sole purpose of getting the fuck away from him. Levi lets out a sigh of relief. He decides that he'll pretend that this never happened and that he'll simply avoid Petra Ral for the rest of his military career (and life at that) no matter how perfect she is for his squad and then his awkwardness would never have to be known. Yes, Levi says to himself, that moment is now officially in the past.

But then he hears laughter.

Loud, obnoxious laughter that has no place in the return of the Survey Corps.

He looks over his shoulder and tries not to freeze at the sight of Hanji, Mike, and Nanaba. The latter two have the decency to be looking away from him and making genuine attempts at hiding their smirks, but fucking Hanji.

Fucking. Hanji.

"Oh, Levi," Hanji coos. Levi looks around to make sure he scared Petra off enough that she's not in range of Hanji's Hanjiness.

"What?" Levi hisses back, trying to maintain what little dignity he has left.

But Hanji only cackles before winking at him. "You flirt good!"

Levi curses under his breath and gallops away on his horse.


	15. caught

**Summary: **Petra catches Levi in an awkward position.

* * *

><p>After the incident, Petra waits a good hour before returning to Levi's room for her original purpose of getting some forms signed before delivering them to wherever they needed to go. This time she knocks, three good, loud strikes, and waits calmly for Levi to yell "What the fuck do you want?" which she's come to learn is his way of saying "Come in."<p>

So she opens the door and finds him sitting at his desk, paperwork in front of him and a vicious scowl on his face.

She glances at the bed but feels his stare on her and immediately whips her gaze back on him.

"I have—"

"Just hand them over, Ral."

She raises an eyebrow at that. So she's Ral now, she notes. A grin begins to bloom on her face and it takes everything in her to fight the urge to laugh.

Levi seems to realize as much because he rips the papers out of her hands. "You can go now," he says nicely enough.

But instead she sits down on the chair across from him and sighs.

"I'm sorry, Levi," she mumbles, deciding that it would be best if they cleared the air.

Her apology only seems to set him off. His face starts to turn red and she has no idea if that's a result of his anger or his embarrassment.

"It was an accident. I swear."

"It's fine," he grits out.

"See, I was going to bring the forms to you and I was outside your room and then I heard you say my name and you sounded like you were in pain so I figured you fell and were dying or something. I don't know. And then…" She realizes she should look more ashamed of her little blunder but there's simply no fighting her smirk. "Yeah. _Yeah_."

But then a thought occurs to her.

"Wait…"

"_Go away_, Ral."

"Wait!" She points at him accusingly. "You were saying… my name?" Suddenly a flush covers her own face. "Oh. _Oh_, I get it." She giggles awkwardly. "Right."

Levi only pinches the bridge of his nose while she continues to laugh at his expense. When she finally calms down, she leans forward, resting an elbow on his desk and her chin on her hand before dazzling him with a smile that she probably thinks is seductive but mostly just makes him want to bash his face against the wall.

"You know," she begins. She drags the fingers of her free hand against the wood. "This is a fine desk you have here, Levi. Very flat. And sturdy. Very _firm_." She smirks at him but he looks pointedly at the report in front of him. "We should test it – that is, of course, if your _earlier activities_ didn't take too much out of you."

He ignores the jab and simply quirks an eyebrow. "Test it?"

She grins back. "Test it."


	16. clues

**Summary:** Levi cleans out Petra's room after her death.

* * *

><p>He sees the clues only after she's gone, beginning with a knitted patch of blue.<p>

He has absolutely no idea what it is. It's still attached to one of her knitting needles, but no matter how much he looks at it, he can't figure out what she was making. He knows knitting has always been a hobby of Petra's. They've all received enough scarves, hats, and mittens from her to prove that. Still, holding up her last project, Levi's at a loss so he places it in the box of items he's going to have delivered to her father.

Next, while going through the drawers of her nightstand, he finds a small bag of candies. He brings them to his nose and sniffs, wincing as the strong smell of ginger invades his senses. He puts the bag down, mildly confused. From his understanding, Petra always hated spicy things, so why would she have these? Shrugging, he adds them to the box as well.

And under that bag of ginger candies he finds a stack of papers. He finds the usual things: letters, reports, photos. But what he finds oddest is a list of names. The first column: Lisbeth, Johanna, Isabel. The second: Nikolaj, Dietmar, Kristoff. He has no idea who any of these people are so he moves on to the papers beneath.

He's confused to see they're all pages ripped out from the newspaper. He scans the dates, noting that they're from the past month, but frowns when he sees the penned circles on the pages. Seamstress' apprentice. Secretary. Maid. They're all jobs looking for a young woman to fill them and they're all decidedly out of the military.

Levi continues to empty her room, silent and solemn and trying his hardest not to really think about Petra because the last thing he needs right now is to break down or something equally ridiculous.

He's sorted through everything except for a small box that she kept under her bed. From what he understood, she kept her most precious items there like the pocket watch that once belonged to her grandfather and a beautiful set of earrings that used to be her mother's. He opens it to make sure there's nothing in there that shouldn't be, and among the more dated looking items, he finds a small blue sock.

Levi takes it out of the box and frowns. He sits on the bed that used to be hers but was mostly _theirs_, holding the sock and the incomplete piece on the needle side by side. They're the same colour, he realizes, and roughly the same size. He wonders what the hell Petra was doing knitting a pair of tiny blue socks when everything comes together. Socks fit for an infant, candies to quell nausea, possible names, jobs away from the Survey Corps.

Petra was—

No.

Levi swallows thickly and places the needle and the knitted work dangling off it back in the box of items meant for her father. He pockets the completed sock but refuses to consider the idea burning in his mind. There's no way of confirming, so he sees no point in thinking about something that would only shatter him further.


	17. sick

**Summary:** Even humanity's strongest can get sick.

* * *

><p>"Levi, please stop being so stubborn."<p>

"Petra, please stop fucking nagging me."

But she can't. No matter how much he swears at her and threatens her and tries to act like he's something to be feared, Petra just wants to coo at him and bury him in blankets. She can't help it. He just looks so pathetic.

One day humanity's strongest gets the flu.

He's paler than usual and the dark marks under his eyes stand out more. Then there's the fact that those eyes are red and watery. His nose is red too, raw from constant rubbing and dripping so frequently that his handkerchief is almost always in his hand. His voice bounces between scratchy and stuffy and he's so clearly congested and about to pass out that Petra refuses to let him even go down to breakfast.

"You're so annoying," he tells her.

On a normal day maybe that comment would sting, but right now Petra only bites her lip to hold back her laughter because dear god does he sound like a whiny little boy.

She simply ignores him, opting to continue arranging the blanket around his body. She touches his forehead and sighs.

"You have a fever," she points out.

Levi only sneers at her. "_You _have an insubordination report coming up."

"Oh, and when are you going to write that, sweetie?" She gestures to his desk across the room. "Please. Go ahead."

But he doesn't. He simply swears some more and looks away from her, all the while snuggling into his warm blanket.

She just rolls her eyes and picks up the medicine for him she'd left on the nightstand. She holds it out to him but he's reluctant to take it so she deigns to grab his face and shove the pills in his mouth. He almost chokes but he swallows them when she doesn't give him much of a choice.

He glowers at her and she smiles back innocently.

"I am the captain," he points out, looking too much like a disgruntled child for her to even consider taking him seriously. "I am humanity's strongest."

"You hate that title."

"I hate your _attitude_."

Petra sighs. "Just take the day off, Levi. There is literally nothing of importance going on today. I'll go straight to the commander after this and tell him that you're sick."

"But then they'll _know_."

"Who will know what?" she asks tightly, finally nearing the limits of her patience.

"The world. That we're fucking."

She raises an eyebrow at that and her hands automatically fall to her hips as she gets into lecture mode. But then she notices that Levi's too delirious to even notice. "Okay," she begins calmly, "firstly, you're an idiot if you think people don't know that we're together."

"You can't talk to me like that," he slurs. "I'm the _captain_."

"And secondly, can you make an effort to not be a complete ass. We're _fucking_? Really?"

"Ugh, lovers. _Fine_. Semantics, you crazy woman."

"Thank you."

"I hate you," he tells her, looking at her with the face of a man scorned. "I can't believe you're doing this to me."

She can't help but laugh. "I know," she says with a wink. "I'm such a bully, right?" She kneels down at the side of the bed and smiles at him fondly.

He scowls back. He opens his mouth, looking ready to say something snide, but suddenly the tension on his face fades away and he groans.

"Petra, I feel like complete shit."

"I know," she says softly. She brushes his damp bangs away from his face and presses a kiss to his clammy forehead. "But I'll take care of you."


	18. dating i

**Summary:** They're not dating, but if they were, it would probably be because he drives her everywhere.

* * *

><p>i.<p>

"So how long have you guys been dating for?"

Petra almost drops her bass at Erd's question. "Um. What?"

"You and Levi," he clarifies, nodding to the door. They watch the black sedan drive away and then Erd turns to her with a knowing grin. "You know, the guy who just drove you to Auruo's house for band practice and told you to call him when you needed a ride home?"

"Oh." Petra shakes her head as they go down to the basement where the other two are waiting. "We're not dating."

"You're not dating?!"

"No."

"No?"

"_No_."

"That's it?"

Petra frowns. "Should there be more?"

Erd sighs and shakes his head. Petra misses the way Auruo and Gunther share a look asking each other something along the lines of _is she serious_.

"No, I guess not."

* * *

><p>ii.<p>

_Since when have u been dating someone?!_

Petra's first reaction is to cover the screen of her phone.

_Some guy named Levi?_

She feels a flush creep onto her face at the sight of Nanaba's text. Immediately, she exits her messages and tucks her phone into her purse.

"Fucking fucks," Levi hisses when he gets back into the car. He shivers and curses while starting the engine. "It is too damn cold. Why is it so cold? I fucking hate the cold."

Petra smiles at him. She actually quite likes winter, but she supposes she has it easy considering her workplace is a one minute walk from the nearest subway station and when she exits at the end of the line, Levi always picks her up.

"It's not too bad," she offers.

He snorts. "Yeah? Then next time you can be the one to fill the tank."

"Hey, I offered!"

"You offered to pay for the gas. That's different from being the one standing in the cold."

She rolls her eyes. "Oh, whatever. Anyway, how much do I owe you?"

Levi just shakes his head. "Fuck off, Petra."

"Levi."

"Petra."

She sighs. They've had this fight too many times for her _not_ to know that he wouldn't take her money. "One day," she says, "I'm going to pay you back."

"Sure," he replies. Then he pauses. She looks at him, confused by his silence, and frowns when she notices how intently he's staring at her. "Why are you so red?" he asks her.

The blush that she was sure had faded away comes back with a fury.

* * *

><p>iii.<p>

"So, Petra, what are you intentions with dating our darling little Levi?"

Petra blinks, confused. "I'm sorry?"

Hanji leans forward. "I do hope you intend to make an honest man out of him."

"What?"

When Levi had said they just needed to stop at his place before he drove her over to hers, she didn't hesitate to ask if she could come in.

Now she sort of wishes she waited in the car.

"We're not a couple," she clarifies.

Mike tilts his head ever so slightly in askance, while Erwin raises one perfectly plucked eyebrow.

Finally Levi comes back into the living room. "What are you doing?" he asks. He stares at Hanji questioningly. "Why do you look constipated?" He pauses before adding, "And more stupid than usual?"

Hanji sighs. "Jar." She points to an empty pickle jar on the shelf with quite a lot of money in it.

"What? That's not a jar moment." Levi turns to his other two housemates for back up but they shake their heads.

"Nope."

"That's a jar moment."

Scowling, Levi digs through his wallet for some change and drops the coins into the jar. "Come on," he says to Petra, "I'll drive you home now."

She nods and stands. "It was nice meeting all of you," she tells them sweetly, even though the experience was mostly awkward and weird and not something she wanted to repeat anytime soon without a drink or two in her system.

They put their shoes on and enter Levi's car wordlessly. When she's finally belted in, Levi turns to her with a face of poorly concealed curiosity.

"Did Hanji say any—" He stops himself and shakes his head. "Hanji probably said some dumb things to you."

Petra laughs. "I wouldn't say that."

"Tch." Levi snorts. "Point being, don't take the shit that comes out of her mouth seriously."

"Even when she's talking about you?"

"_Especially_ when she's talking about me."

* * *

><p>iv.<p>

"I actually kind of like this guy that you're dating."

"_We aren't dating_."

Her father ruffles her hair, looking down at her with a strained smile. "Petra, I know I'm your dad and you think you need to hide this kind of stuff from me, but—"

"Really, papa!" Petra interrupts. Her face burns and she wonders if that has to do with embarrassment or frustration.

"Then why did he just drive you home?" he asks. "Why has he been driving you home every day for the past three months?"

"Because I don't have a license?" Petra suggests.

Her father snorts. "So? You can easily afford a bus pass."

"Thanks, papa."

He just laughs. "I hope you're not dating this boy for his car, Petra. That's not the kind of girl I raised."

"_We aren't dating_!"

* * *

><p>v.<p>

"I think that we should be dating."

Petra blinks, genuinely astonished to be hearing these words from Levi of all people. "What?"

Levi shrugs. "Us," he clarifies. "We should be dating. Let's go on a date." Then he pauses. "I suppose you can call this a date, actually."

"Oh?"

He turns to her when they hit a red light. "We're technically on our way to go out for dinner together."

"This is true."

"And I even picked you up from your house."

"This is also true," she agrees, "but you didn't bring me any flowers or chocolates."

There's a thoughtful look on his face before he reaches into the backseat and pulls out a bag of Mini Eggs. "Bam. Chocolate."

Petra takes the sweets. "Why are you so eager to be dating me?" she asks coyly, eating a Mini Egg and then holding one out to him. His hands are on the wheel though, so he opens his mouth and lets her feed it to him.

He shrugs. "You know, this and that."

"Yes, of course." Petra sighs, pretending like this isn't something she's been waiting for him to ask for weeks now. "Well, I guess I wouldn't mind dating you. I mean, you do drive me around everywhere."

"So you're dating me for rides then?"

"Sure," she replies, feeding them both a few more chocolates. "Want to be my ride or die guy?"

"Fuck no."

"I'll take that as a yes." She nods. "Then I guess we're dating now."


	19. decision

**Summary: **Petra makes a big decision.

* * *

><p>Her moment of clarity is amusingly anticlimactic, beginning with her wondering if she's being too hard on her body because her period has been noticeably absent, and ending with her puking out her dinner everyday for a week. She swallows thickly when the idea comes to her and then sighs because <em>of course<em>. She almost laughs, wondering how it took her so long to realize what was wrong.

For how careful they've been over not getting caught, they've been incredibly careless over not getting pregnant.

Petra sits on the edge of her bed, eyeing the waste basket just some feet away from her with disgust. She'll have to take care of that when everyone is asleep, she notes. Then her hand creeps onto her abdomen and she thinks about how she'll have to take care of this as well.

Pregnant, she whispers. Disappointment washes over her. _Pregnant_.

For all the kind words she can utter and the motherly smiles she can wear, Petra is hardly a maternal person. She can take care of a wounded comrade and wipe away a crying child's tears, but she doesn't know the first thing about raising a kid and if she's truly honest, she doesn't want to know.

Motherhood just seems so foolish, she thinks. Having a child — _reproducing_ — in this world just seems so irresponsible.

Yet there she is.

Petra sighs and curls up on her side. She waits an hour or so before heading downstairs to wash the waste basket. Then she returns to her room and cries, allowing herself one night to have any regrets because the next morning she goes in to town, heading directly for the doctor's office, and explaining her situation.

She's quick and mechanical, making an appointment without listening to the doctor's advice about other options, and she manages to get back to headquarters on time to catch the end of breakfast.

The morning after that, she goes straight to Levi's quarters. She knocks on the door and only enters when she hears his quiet utterance of come in. He looks surprised to see her, but nonetheless pleased. She has no doubt he'd welcome a conversation with her over paperwork any day of the week.

"Petra," he greets.

"Captain," she replies.

He raises an eyebrow at her. She calls him Levi in private and she's been doing that for years, long before they started doing whatever it is they're doing. "Ral," he says this time, the word awkward on his tongue. "Is something wrong?"

She shakes her head. "No, sir. I was just wondering if I could take next Thursday off."

"For?"

It takes everything in her not to falter under his stare. "Just… family matters," she tells him honestly.

"Family matters?"

"Family matters."

She makes no effort to offer an explanation and he makes no effort to ask for one. Their standoff persists until Levi leans back into his chair and tilts his head ever so slightly. "Is your father okay?"

"What?" Triumph flickers on his face and she's quick to beat it down. "He's fine. No, a cousin of mine just had a baby." It's a stupid lie, she realizes, once the words come out of her mouth. But she sticks to it. "I was hoping to visit her."

"I didn't know you had cousins."

She grins wryly but that immediately twists into a grimace. You don't know a lot of things, she thinks bitterly, and for a moment she wonders if she said that out loud because Levi is frowning at her.

"I do," Petra eventually says. "Not that many, but I do."

Levi nods. "What's her name?"

"Johanna."

"When did she have a baby?"

"Two weeks ago."

"Boy or girl?"

"Boy."

"What's his name?"

"I don't know yet."

"How did you know he was born?"

"My father wrote me." She doesn't frown because that would give away that she's uncomfortable, which would then give away that she's lying. "What's with all the questions?" she asks lightly enough, smiling at him for good measure.

He just shrugs. "Just making sure you're okay."

"I'm fine."

"You look pale," he points out. "And yesterday I heard you puking. The day before that too. Have a stomach flu, Petra?"

And this is it, she thinks. This is the moment. This is where she tells him the truth if she so deigns to. A confession and a plea for help rest at the tip of her tongue but she clenches her jaw. There's no point in telling him, she understands, not when her mind has already been made up because for all she knew Levi would want to do something stupid like keep the thing growing in her womb. His gaze is penetrating and she almost wants to breakdown and tell the truth.

Almost.

"Just a minor stomach flu, _Captain_."

He almost looks disappointed.

"Then maybe you shouldn't go see your cousin," he suggests. "You wouldn't want to get her daughter sick."

Her nostrils flare as he continues this little battle. "I suppose not," she says, deciding to let him feel like he's won. "But next Thursday?"

He pauses, watching her carefully. Finally, he sighs. "Do what you want," he orders, sounding like a child that didn't get what they wanted.

All the more reason, she thinks, not to let him know her little secret. So she nods once and turns to leave.

Neither of them are winners here.


	20. devotion

**Summary:** There's marriage and there's devotion, and then there's Levi and Petra.

* * *

><p>Once they become engaged, Erd introduces his fiancée to his squad members.<p>

She's nice enough, having brought them a basket of baked treats that Auruo and Petra shamelessly gobbled up in an instant. Her long dark hair runs down her back, touching the top of her skirt. She wears a flowy blouse and a shiny necklace and smiles so sweetly that Levi immediately wonders if she's ever felt the weight of 3DMG on her body, the wind in her hair while gliding from one building to another, or the steaming spray of titan blood against her skin after a proper kill. But of course she hasn't. She's too soft-looking, no muscle to her mass, no callouses to her skin.

And before he can think of any other criticisms, Erd whisks her away. Wedding stuff, he explains. And then they're gone.

Levi thinks that Erd is an odd one for being with someone outside of the military—someone that could never truly understand the things he's done and the things that haunt him. They'll never really have all that much time together, Levi muses cynically. Not just in general, but no matter how long Erd has been in this profession for, there's no knowing which expedition might be his last.

"Erd said they're going to pick up the wedding dress," Petra says.

She lies on his bed reading a book while he sits at his desk reading a report. When he looks up at her, he notices that she hasn't taken off her boots so her feet dangle off the edge of the bed. And she's not quite reading so much as the book is sitting on her chest while she looks at nothing.

She's thinking, he realizes grimly.

"They're getting married in a few weeks," she says.

He listens but he has a feeling she's talking more to herself than to him.

"Married," she repeats, her voice a low, incredulous whisper.

"Do you want to get married?" She looks at him with wide eyes and he realizes what his question might have sounded like. He clears his throat. "I mean in the future. Whenever. With whoever." Levi cringes. "I mean," he sighs, "in general."

And then Petra surprises him. "Not really."

Levi can't help but drop the pen in his hand. He faces her with his full attention. "Oh?" he says, asking her to continue.

She shifts, probably shrugging. "I think marriage is silly," she admits quietly. "Or maybe not silly, just… not necessary." She shrugs. "I hate the idea of having my love for someone defined by a piece of paper. That's not what matters."

"And what does matter?"

"Devotion." Petra sits up. She leans back, putting her weight on her hands. "I dislike the idea that you need collateral to have a marriage."

He snorts. "Normal people use the term marriage certificate."

"People should just love each other."

"And what about other things? Security? Pension? Inheritance?"

"Devotion," she repeats. "My parents weren't married," she admits with a wry smile. "My grandmother — my dad's mother — never approved of his relationship with my mom. She refused to give her blessing, so they bought a home and started a family together anyway. No marriage, just devotion."

"Devotion," he echoes, testing the word on his tongue and finding it to be something he can say, something he can do. He stands and walks towards her.

She surprises him when she rises as well and moves to meet him halfway. Her arms wind around his neck and his fall to her hips. His breath is warm against her face.

"Hey, Levi?" she whispers, grinning at him adoringly.

He raises an eyebrow. "What?"

"I'd like to devote myself to you," she tells him honestly, her eyes conveying the love in her words.

He smiles back softly, pressing his forehead against hers. "I'd like that."


	21. dating ii

**Summary:** They're not dating. Really. _Really._

* * *

><p>i.<p>

"Is Miss Petra your girlfriend?"

Levi looks away from the half open door where Petra stood just seconds ago waving at the bunch of brats seated at the desks in front of him. He tries to pinpoint which one of the students in his tutorial had the gall to ask about his personal life. Naturally, it was fucking Jaeger.

"Of course not," Levi scoffs.

"Oh," Eren says. He doesn't notice the way Armin keeps nudging him, trying to shut him up. "That's too bad."

"And why the fuck is _that_?"

"Because Miss Petra is super nice and helpful and smells like lavender and looks like fucking sunshine?" Jean suggests.

"_Language_, Kirschtein."

He looks back at Levi with a stare of _are you kidding me_, but Levi ignores it.

"How do you shits know Miss Petra anyway?" The title feels weird coming out of his mouth and he decides that he'll never call her Miss again. She sounds like some school teacher, and that's the last thing he wants to fantasize about — not that he fantasizes about anything, of course.

"She works in the first-year office," Armin informs him. "She lets us use the stapler or hole puncher if we need them. And she even lets us borrow pens if we don't have any. And if you're really screwed, she'll give you some paper for notes." Beside him, Eren and Jean nod eagerly.

"She's the best," Eren adds helpfully. If he were five, he would probably follow that with a declaration that he'd marry his Miss Petra when he grew up.

"Right," Levi says, not knowing what else to say. He runs a finger along the stack of sheets he'd forgotten on her desk just ten minutes ago and that she brought directly to him. "I suppose she kind of is."

* * *

><p>ii.<p>

"Oi, nii-chan, since when were you dating Petra Ral?"

Levi's first instinct is to look around and make sure the woman in question isn't around to hear herself be spoken about by someone ridiculous and loud and obnoxious. When he finds no trace of copper, Levi glares at Isabel.

"We're _not fucking dating_."

Isabel quirks an eyebrow at him. "That's not what Facebook says."

"And what exactly does Facebook say?" He pauses. "Actually, more importantly, how do you know Petra?"

"We had some classes together during first year," his sister explains. "Then we became those friends that go out for coffee together every month or so. How do _you _know her?"

Levi winces and decides that he'd rather not tell Isabel that he might have stood in front of her just staring like a complete creep or that one day she sort of just interrupted him in the middle of trying to find _something _to circle in red on Ackerman's essay to make him go get lunch with her.

"She works in the building where my tutorials are," is the simple answer.

"Oh." Isabel looks mildly crestfallen. "Well that's… boring. But Facebook!"

Levi sighs. "What about Facebook?" He sits down beside her and she pulls up Petra's photos.

"See, you guys literally have a photo up from last night," Isabel points out, grinning at Petra's selfie of the two of them with candy canes hanging out of their mouth — or more specifically, Petra posing with a candy cane in her mouth and Levi almost choking because she'd shoved the candy in his mouth so suddenly.

Well fuck, Levi thinks. The picture had seemed much less embarrassing at the time.

"Well I was driving her home," Levi explains weakly. "And she wanted a peppermint mocha and so did I so we went to her place and made some."

"She invited you in for coffee last night?"

"A _peppermint mocha_."

"Semantics. And she invited you in for coffee last night but you guys aren't dating?" She sighs and opts for flipping through Petra's pictures to prove her point.

There's a picture of the two of them bundled up from the time she dragged him ice skating, there's a picture of him in his glasses (and god fucking dammit she swore she wouldn't post that!), there's a picture from the dingy bar just down the street of his beer beside her glass of sangria, there's a picture of them at their favourite deli with Levi in the middle of biting his sandwich and Petra grinning widely, there's—

"Okay, I can see why you might think we're dating," Levi admits, looking away to hide his blush, "but… we're not."

"You're not?"

"We're not."

"Are you sure?"

"_Yes_, I'm fucking sure."

Isabel sighs. "That's disappointing."

And Levi won't say it out loud, but he kind of agrees.

* * *

><p>iii.<p>

"So you and Petra, huh?"

"Me and Petra?"

Her friend, the drummer of the terribly named P-Ral and the Three Gals, nods. "She never told us she was dating anyone," Gunther admits, looking a little put out by the apparent omission. He is, after all, one of Petra's "besties" (her words).

"That's because we're _not _dating," Levi says slowly. Honestly, he thinks with a huff, what is _with _everyone?

"Who's not dating who?"

Levi chokes on the beer he'd been sipping when he hears Petra come up beside him. She slaps his back as he coughs, not helping him in the slightest.

"You okay?" she asks. He nods and she turns to Gunther. "But yeah, who's dating? What's the gossip?"

Gunther meets his eyes briefly and a few pages of the Bro Code seem to pass through his mind. "Er, Auruo," Gunther finally says. "And… some… girl…"

Petra sees right through him, so Levi decides to be honest. "Us," he tells her calmly. Inside, however, his heart is pounding and it's like his stomach is about to drop and he thinks he might reek because fuck is he sweating.

"Us?" she echoes.

Levi nods. "All the cool kids call us Rivetra."

"Levi, if you keep mocking me for that _one_ the time I read your name wrong I swear I will—"

He shakes his head, and puts a finger to her lips to stop her. "Shush."

She swats his hand away. "I really don't think that's any way to talk to your girlfriend." He shrugs and she tolls her eyes. "So how long have we been dating for?"

"Nine months."

"Oh, nice. Do we have promise rings yet?"

"Soon. I'm picking them up next Friday."

"Awesome." She's being sarcastic and he knows it and he's just playing along, but he can't help the tug of hope in his heart. "And don't forget that I want to name our kids—"

"Okay, okay, I get it," Gunther interrupts, crossing his arms and pouting. "You're not dating. Fine."

Petra winks at him and links her arm through Levi's. He can feel every curve of her body against his side. She looks ready to tease Gunther some more, but Erd and Auruo come over to them.

"Come on now!" Erd yells, grabbing his drummer and bassist by their arms. "Sorry Levi, but we can't quite play without these two." He drags them over to the makeshift stage at the corner of the bar and Petra smiles at him from over shoulder, mouthing an apology for her abrupt exit.

Levi just nods numbly, still thinking about how nice it felt to have her against him.

* * *

><p>iv.<p>

"I'm not even going to ask where you were. Or, for that matter, who you were with."

Levi pauses, feeling oddly guilty and incredibly uncomfortable under Erwin's prying stare. He feels like a teenager sneaking in past his curfew, or like he's been caught with his hand in the proverbial cookie jar, but the sad truth is that Levi's hands have really been kept to himself for the past… really long time. For the most part, Petra's the only woman he sees regularly. _Sees_, being the keyword.

Erwin and Hanji sit on the couch, staring at him as he removes his coat and scarf. They look like they want answers and Levi refuses to be the one to break the silence.

"He was obviously with his lady friend," Hanji says slyly.

"Lady friend?"

She nods. "The one that we met last week. The one who apparently isn't dating him—"

"We're _not_ dating." Levi curses when he realizes he slipped up. Hanji grins triumphantly and Erwin has the decency to look away and hide his own smirk. Levi just sits in the smaller couch across from them and sighs.

"Do you _want _to date her?" Erwin asks.

"No!" Levi snaps. He just wants to drive around with her listening to music and hangout with her over lunch going halfsies (her choice of word) on reuben on rye while he gets the chili and she gets the soup of the day and listen to her talk about the book she just read or the movie she just watched and text her about the stupid antics of his roommates or students. "No," Levi repeats. "Not at all."

"Not even a little?" Hanji presses.

Levi glares back at her. "Not even a little."

"Even though you're sort of already dating?"

"I said _we're not dating_."

* * *

><p>v.<p>

"Wait _are_ we dating?"

It only actually fully occurs to him when he's alone in his room and staring at the ceiling, his phone still glowing from Petra's message of _I'm going to bed now. Go to sleep already!_

Obviously, they were not. They never actually went on _dates_. Sure, they did things together and other people might define their outings as dates, but Levi never asked her and she never asked him so it didn't count that they had meals together sometimes more than once a day, or that he picks her up and drives her home all the time, or that they've gone to movies together and awkwardly touched hands while both aiming for the popcorn.

But she's just his friend.

She's just the girl who he can talk to when he's bored or when something interesting happens and he needs to tell someone about it. She's the one who'll lend him a stapler when the one in the staff room fails, and who'll take him away from his research when he gets too into it and forgets to eat. She forces him to go out, watch movies (usually Disney or Pixar), see plays, go skating, try weird foods, listen to random bands (usually hers), and, of course, he just lets her.

"Well shit," he whispers.

He just _lets_ her.

"_Shit_," he mutters when he realizes that maybe, just maybe, he kind of sort of has a thing for Petra Ral. "Fuck, fuck, _fuck_."

He's screwed.


	22. repentance

**prompt: **repentance

* * *

><p>She's mad at him.<p>

Naturally, she isn't obvious about it.

She still calls him _captain_ and follows his orders like a good little soldier and refrains from giving him dirty looks every time he picks on her to get some sort of reaction from her. She just nods, acknowledges his criticism, and moves on without so much as a second glance. She still brings him his coffee and brings him the day's reports. She still speaks to him and looks him in the eye and smiles when social propriety dictates that she should. Essentially, she acts exactly the same, but Levi can feel the coldness in her gestures and hear the venom in her voice. He can see the insincerity in her smiles and the traces of a sneer every time she looks his way. She doesn't yell at him or curse him, but really, Petra's just more gracious than that.

Obviously, Levi thinks with a grimace, he did something wrong. He racks his mind for nearly an hour trying to figure out what her problem is, but is still at a loss. Sure, he may have been an ass, but no more than usual, so what the actual fuck did he do?

He considers simply asking her but has a feeling that that wouldn't go well. He'd ask her what her problem was and she'd say nothing and then he'd yell and she'd yell and then they'd be mad at each other as opposed to her just being mad at him and then he'd realize he probably _did_ do something so the entire situation would be his fault and—

Levi sighs.

As it would seem, however, she's not angry enough to stay away from him entirely.

He doesn't know if he feels insulted or not that she still _deigns_ to come to his room that night and crawl into his bed, but he does recognize the opportunity. So when she drapes her body over his and presses her lips against his roughly without so much as a _hello_, he flips them over so that he's on top. She looks momentarily stunned, but, strangely enough, doesn't try to reclaim her position.

She just stares at him, eyes taunting, asking what his next move will be when the thought occurs to him: hey, she's fucking beautiful. He's a man that craves order and cleanliness but finds her perfect with her hair splayed on his pillow in every direction, cheeks splotched with red, and her shirt wrinkled and half-open.

Levi rests most of his weight on his knees and forearms. His body is firm against hers, but he stays away from crushing her. He supposes she might prefer the discomfort of his body heavy on hers, but he'd prefer not to give her another thing to bitch about.

He kisses her gently. He caresses instead of grabbing, nips instead of biting, and makes every move with an ounce of askance. Finally, he thinks his discomforting tenderness gets to her because she pushes him off and frowns.

"What are you doing?"

He raises an eyebrow, glancing from swollen lips to her open shirt and to the love bite on her collarbone. "Isn't this what you want?" he asks.

Her frown only deepens before she scoffs, "And what is it that I want?"

He can hear the challenge in her voice. He wonders if he's digging his own grave by broaching the topic, so he stays silent instead.

This just makes her laugh. "I don't want anything," she whispers breathlessly, tiredly, sadly. She doesn't say it, but the bitter truth is in her eyes, on her lips: You can't give me anything.

And then he thinks that maybe he actually does understand what she wants.

She wants more than a fuck before bed if they aren't too tired, more than rough kisses in dark corners, more than his lingering stare, more than being Petra only behind closed doors. She wants do stupid shit like hold his hand and be there when the stress of being _Humanity's Strongest_ gets to him and embrace him and make love to him.

She wants _more_.

She wants more and Levi's not even sure if he can give that to her so kisses her softly because he's broken and maybe she's a little broken too and fuck if the world they live isn't broken as well. He presses his lips to corner of her mouth, brushing against her skin with a feather light touch, kissing a trail across her cheek and to her forehead and down her nose and to her mouth. His hands wander her body, fingers stroking her sides and brushing against her breasts and sliding down her arms.

He works on making her writhe, employing his mouth and his hands and every technique he can muster along the expanse of her body.

He can't give her the things she wants, but he can give her this moment instead.


	23. blood

**prompt: **blood  
><strong>note:<strong> takes place after chapter 55  
><strong>warning(s): <strong>manga spoilers, mentions of torture

* * *

><p>She hasn't said a word since they left the room in the basement, not when Hanji comments on the differences between human and titan anatomy, not when Eren and Jean begin some ridiculous conversation over dinner, and certainly not when Levi stares at her, wordlessly imploring that she explain what the fuck her problem is. Petra stays as still and silent as a statue, strategically sitting between Connie and Sasha so she won't have to explain why she hasn't eaten yet, and then wordlessly volunteers to wash all the dishes so that she can be alone and retch without anyone having to listen to her.<p>

But, of course, Levi hears.

He stands by the door and she's too caught up in her thoughts to even notice him. She wipes her face before beginning on the dishes, but she's too distracted or the water's too hot or the soap is too slippery so she drops the plate. She curses and goes about gathering the broken pieces, and then swears again.

She cut herself, he realizes. The urge to offer the handkerchief in his pocket pulls at him, but then he remembers that there's enough blood on that from his earlier activities so he chooses to leave her be as she cleans the wound and begins to dry heave all over again.

He's frustrated, torn between resting a hand on her back to comfort her and telling her to get her shit together because she's a fucking soldier, dammit, and later the night, she's still no better.

Despite their cramped living space, they still sleep together out of habit.

With how busy they've been as of late, sex is the last thing on their minds, but Levi still feels more relaxed with the feel of Petra at his side, just as she always feels more at ease with his weight against her. Considering the events of the past few hours, Levi wonders if she'll still grace him with her presence or if she'll relieve whoever is on lookout because there's no way that she can sleep tonight. She comes to bed though. She strips off her clothes and lies down beside him. She's close enough to feel his warmth, but far away enough to avoid touching him and Levi is painfully aware of this distance, so out of a tiny but of hurt and a lot of spite, he turns and throws an arm over her middle to draw her closer.

To her credit, she doesn't flinch, nor does she stiffen. He holds her and she's so clearly on edge about it that Levi thinks she'd rather fuck him right now than deal with something as intimate as _cuddling_. In a calculated stroke of cruelty, he deigns to hold her hand, lacing his fingers through hers and squeezing ever so slightly.

Then she winces and pulls away. She sits up, drawing the hand into her chest and frowning. She looks down at him and sighs.

"You have blood on your hands," she says.

Levi almost recoils. So finally it begins, he thinks snidely.

He feels himself growing angrier with every passing moment because really, who the fuck is _she_? She's one of the few people who know anything about his past, about the things he used to do before he joined the Legion. She knows that he's skilled and capable and dedicated to the cause of saving humanity, so what's the life of one greedy bastard for the lives of everyone else? So he condoned Hanji's ministrations and took a few jabs himself and then punched the fucker in the basement a few times while he asked Petra to hold the chair steady – fine. He has blood on his hands and he knows it and he's _fine_ with it, but there's something about the way she points that out to him, slowly, bluntly, and accusingly, that makes him seethe.

"I did what I had to do, Petra," he insists calmly enough despite the burn inside. She doesn't respond and he wants to shake her. "You know what? I don't give a fuck about what you think—"

"No," she interrupts. She holds up her open palm and in the dark he only sees a splotch and a streak on her pale skin. "I mean I cut my hand earlier," she clarifies. "The wound opened. I think I got some blood on you too."

He looks down at the hand that had been pressed against hers. She's right.

"And I get it," she continues. "I get it." She repeats herself and sounds so disgustingly hollow, which isn't too far off considering she vomited everything the moment she was alone after the stint in the basement.

"Petra, I—"

"_Had to_. I know."

"We needed those answers."

"And that's the thing!" She looks at him from over her shoulder, her face twisted in distaste. "We're all so caught up in this burning desire to _save humanity_, but here we are sacrificing our own in the process." She snorts. "How are we any better than the people we accuse of being criminals now?"

Her back is to him and he notes the way that her hair has grown a few inches past the nape of her neck, the scars that line her back after her injuries from the 57thexpedition, and that with these different details and the emptiness in her voice, he doesn't feel like he's talking to Petra Ral.

"Sometimes we have to—"

"This is _not_ what I signed up for!" Petra takes a few deep breaths and he's worried she might begin dry heaving again. "Torturing a man—he gave us answers, but…"

But they kept going. They pried off his nails before he was even asked anything, beat him without a second thought, yanked out a few teeth, emasculated him. Petra shudders and Levi thinks she's listing the same things as him.

"I get it," she says another time, probably hoping that if she can understand she can accept. "I get that you _needed_ to find answers, I just wish you—_we_—didn't have to go such extremes."

"Some things can't be helped, Petra," he explains weakly.

She just sighs heavily and shakes her head. "Forget it. Forget I said anything."

And just like that, the discussion is over. She grabs the shirt she'd discarded and wipes her bloody hand with it, passing it to him so that he can do the same. He tosses it to the floor and they both settle back onto the bed, side by side and inches away from touching. They both lay on their backs staring at the ceiling in a restless silence.

Levi doesn't say anything because she probably wants an apology or an explanation or something else that he's not particularly inclined much less _able_to provide, so they just breathe heavily and avoid any contact.

Finally, Petra turns on her side. She faces the wall and presents to him the back of a woman he sometimes feels like he barely knows anymore.

"Levi?"

His name on her lips makes him anxious, but he answers nonetheless. "What?"

"I love you," she whispers.

The words usually tug at his heartstrings and make him smile faintly enough, but this time he wishes she'd just kept her mouth shut. He's heard Petra say the words before, sweetly, breathlessly, frantically, but never _convincingly_ – never in a way that sounded like she was saying something she didn't actually mean anymore.

So Levi just nods. She can't see him so there's no other way of showing his acknowledgement, but he nods anyway. He would rather accept the weak words than consider the possibility that she's lying.


	24. au

**prompt:** au

* * *

><p>"Hey."<p>

"Piss off, Petra."

"Hey, Levi. _Hey_."

Levi sighed. He tried scooting further down the couch to get away from her only to realize it was a lot smaller than he expected. Nevertheless, he kept his eyes trained on the document opened on his tablet, focusing on reading rather than acknowledging the stocking-clad foot running up and down his thigh.

"Levi," she called again, drawing out his name.

"Fucking hell." He pushed off the legs she now laid on his lap and pinched her calf when she tried to fight him. "What do you want, Petra?"

She grinned. "Oh, I think you know what I want."

She moved to take a sip of her glass of wine, but pouted when she found it was empty. He watched as she reached for the bottle on the coffee table and attempted to refill her glass while still slouched against the arm of the couch. Eventually she just gave up and decided to drink straight out of the bottle.

"Classy," he commented.

"I try."

"Clearly."

She raised an eyebrow. "What is _that_ supposed to mean?"

He returned the incredulous look. "Where are your pants?"

"I'm not _wearing_ pants—"

"Obviously."

"—because I'm wearing a _sweater dress_."

"A _short_ sweater dress."

"I know. That's why I picked it. I'm trying to seduce you." Her foot began moving towards his inner thigh and up to his crotch, so Levi grabbed her by the ankle. She just smiled at him innocently. "Success?"

"Not a chance," he replied calmly, resuming his earlier activities.

She sighed. "What are you doing that's so important, anyway?"

"Reading."

"Thanks."

"You're welcome."

"_What_ are you reading?"

"Some stupid report, Petra," he said. He turned the tablet her way to show her the red stamp at the top left corner that said _CONFIDENTIAL_.

"You probably aren't supposed to be showing that to me."

"Well how else am I supposed to make you _fuck off_, Petra?" She didn't answer, opting to smile at him like that cat that got the cream – or the cat that knew she was going to get the cream eventually. He groaned. "Listen, this is important. Erwin needs me to go over this shit and draft a proposal by eight." He took a look at his watched and cursed. "Dammit, I have forty-seven minutes to go over this."

"And it'll only take like three minutes to go over _me_."

"For fuck's sake would you just—" He paused when he realized what she just implied and turned to glare at her. "Three minutes? _Three_ fucking minutes?"

She drank some more of her wine, clearly unaffected by his scathing stare.

Cursing under his breath, he put the tablet on the side table and began unbuttoning his shirt.

"Tch, I'll show you."


	25. hidden kisses

**prompt:** hidden kisses

* * *

><p>Petra is so much more than his personal assistant, but she's always so eager to please and always available that sometimes Levi can't help but get comfortable after she brings him the day's agenda and his freshly brewed coffee and begins to recite any messages meant for him. And it doesn't help that she does this all so efficiently and quickly that he wonders if he should just sleep in and let her do his job for him instead.<p>

"Take these to the Commander first," Levi says, handing her a folder with a red seal on the front. When she takes the folder, he narrows his eyes to seem intimidating but she doesn't bat an eyelash. "Make sure that goes straight into his hands, Ral."

"Yes, sir."

"These just need to go to the archives." He gestures to a neat stack of reports. "Make sure whatever new graduate is supposed to be filing this crap is _actually fucking filing this crap_. We don't need a repeat of what happened last time."

"Indeed, sir."

"And these—" Levi stops to scoff at the next pile, this one much larger than the one meant for filing and covered in a lot more red ink than Levi realized he even had. "Give these back to the asshats that wrote them and tell them I want new,_not complete shit_ reports on my desk by dinner tomorrow."

"Of course, sir."

"Make sure you use those exact words, Ral."

"Certainly, sir."

"Now this needs to go to Hanji." Levi points to the box near the edge of his desk wrapped in plain brown paper. "Do _not_ open it."

"I would never, sir."

"You may or may not hear some noises coming from it and it may or may not start to smell, but… yeah. Don't open it. It may or may not be… alive. Or once alive. Basically, just give it straight to Hanji." He pauses. "_Only_ to Hanji. None of that Moblit bullshit."

"I'll hand it only to Squad Leader Hanji, sir."

"And this," Levi begins, slowly turning red as he holds up a smaller package about the size of his hand. He looks away from Petra whose arms are full of all the crap he's handed to her. He feels kind of bad and wonders why the hell she's taking everything in one trip, but he supposes that's just part of how she works. Still, he stands up and puts the next parcel directly into her jacket pocket. "That one is for you, Ral, but don't open it until you're done all the deliveries."

"Huh?" She looks at him curiously. "For me, sir?"

Levi nods. "For you, Petra." On instinct, he looks around the office he already knows is empty save for the two of them before kissing her on the cheek, careful not to get to close lest he knock over the pile of papers and parcels in her arms.

She quirks an eyebrow at him. "You know we're alone, right? You can go for the lips. And I'm not opposed to some tongue action." His flush deepens and she just laughs. "So did you get me a present?" she asks, her tone finally softening as she dropped the soldier act.

"It's not a fucking present."

"Then what is it?"

"Well you'll find out after you're done all the deliveries, Petra." She rolls her eyes and he scoffs at her. "Just get moving, Ral."

"Whatever you say, sir."


	26. captain and soldier

**prompt: **captain and soldier  
><strong>note:<strong> i feel like if levi ever spawned his kid(s) would have basically no respect for him

* * *

><p>The brat's first word is "no."<p>

Come to papa. No. It's time for your bath. No. Let's eat dinner. No. Stop pulling my fucking hair. No.

Sure, the brat eventually picked up other words like "mama," "papa," "more," and "fuck" (that was an accident, Levi swears), but for the most part all he ever really says is "no," either on its own or in combination with something else from his limited vocabulary.

"Bath time," Levi declares one night when Petra is away and he's alone with the brat.

Naturally, the brat looks away from the toy in his hand to stare at Levi, his pudgy little face in its default pout. "No," the brat responds loudly enough. He throws his toy at Levi's feet and crawls away.

"Excuse you?"

"No!"

"I said it's time for your bath, kid."

"NO!"

What the _fuck_? Levi thinks. He makes a grab for the brat but somehow the little shit manages to feint to the left.

"Listen you little fucker—_fuck_—I mean dammit—ugh, listen!" Levi squats down when the brat actually plants himself in one spot. Levi points down at him authoritatively and glares. "_I_ am the captain. What I say goes, got it? So cut this_no, no, no_ bullshit because it's time for your bath."

The brat holds Levi's stare longer than any other soldier Levi ever had to lecture in the past could. Eventually, the brat bows his head looking repentant enough and Levi smirks because he isn't the captain for nothing—

"_Fuck_!"

Levi looks down to see the brat's teeth clamped around his finger. He pulls his hand away, cursing. He glares at the brat but the little shit just crawls away, shouting "no" over and over again, most likely for the sole purpose of taunting his father.

* * *

><p>When Petra finally returns later that night, she's shocked to see her baby boy still playing and his father doing nothing to stop him.<p>

"Levi, it's nearly midnight! Why is he still awake?" Petra hisses. She kneels and presses a kiss to the brat's cheek before sniffing him and grimacing. "And why haven't you given him a bath yet?"

And just like that Levi turns red and scowls at her.

"I—he—ugh—_fuck_. I am the _captain_!" he declares, standing up in a sad attempt to assert his authority. Petra only raises an eyebrow while the baby drools none too gracefully. "I demand respect."

But Petra laughs. "What are you even talking about, Levi?"

"No," he says, shaking his head. "No. Just no. No. No."

When he leaves the room, Petra looks down at the baby, confused. "What's wrong with papa?"

He grins back at her. "No!"


	27. coffee

**prompt: **coffee

* * *

><p>As per usual, Levi starts his morning off with a cup of freshly brewed coffee. Unlike most days, however, Petra brings the mug to him while he's still in bed as opposed to when he's clean and clothed and sitting at a table. He accepts the drink without a word and slowly sips on it as his head spins and his stomach churns. When the taste of coffee begins to slowly overpower the taste of <em>death<em>lingering in his mouth, it occurs to him that he's wearing nothing but his unbuttoned shirt from the day before and that you know, he just got married yesterday.

He glances over at Petra – his _wife_ – and finds her sitting at the edge of the bed watching him, a placid smile stretched across her face.

"Mornin'," Levi mumbles, the word coming out hoarse and gravelly.

Her grin only widens. "Good morning, dear."

She continues staring at him and he continues sipping on his coffee, feeling like he's done something very, very wrong.

But she looks so lovely wearing nothing but a simple dress, a cardigan, and a smile so he doesn't bother trying to figure out where he might have screwed up. On impulse, he reaches out to her with his free hand, tucking her hair behind her ear and brushing his fingers along her cheek. She takes his hand into own almost instinctively, squeezing it and lacing her fingers through his.

"I," Levi begins, "am incredibly hungover."

He could probably afford to be a bit more eloquent, he supposes, but she's his wife now and he figures that allows him to be as crass as he wants.

Petra just laughs. "Oh, I would assume so."

Levi winces. "I don't really remember anything from last night."

"Why don't I jog your memory a little bit then?" she suggests, scooting a bit closer to him.

Levi nods and puts his now empty mug on the nightstand. He moves to the middle of the bed and she sits down beside him.

"Well I suppose your memory went hazy around the point where Eren made a toast and you started crying—"

"I did no such thing."

"You did."

"I would never."

She snorts and continues, "Anyhow, for the most part you were just drinking at the bar with Hanji and Mike and trying to prove who knows what—"

"That I'm superior?"

"—which isn't so bad because that got them drunk enough to finally allow me some alone time with my husband." She turns to him, smiling sweetly and finally Levi realizes that those smiles have been anything but loving. "My _husband_ who decided it was absolutely necessary to carry me into our bedroom, made me hit my head on the doorframe, and then threw me on the bed none too gently."

Levi's frown deepens as he tries to picture all of these events and fails.

"And then," Petra continues.

"There's _more_?"

She scoffs at him incredulously, no longer trying to hide her frustration with her smiles.

"Well, you tried giving me a striptease which was mostly just awkward and not really all that sexy—"

"How dare you."

"—and then you told me that you were going to _rock my world_ before realizing you drank too much so you couldn't even get an erec—"

"Stop," Levi interrupts, putting a hand over her mouth. He closes his eyes, willing his brain to conjure up any scenes from the night before that might prove Petra's been lying, but finds that the previous day essentially ended for him with Hanji laughing in his face, Mike holding him steady, and Petra staring at him from across the room looking incredibly displeased. Levi slides his hand away and groans. "I fucked up, didn't I?"

Petra doesn't say anything. She sighs and shrugs and bites her lip before looking at him again and just wincing. "I love you," she says simply enough – as if that solves everything. "And if you, well, _fucked up_ the one day that I thought was going to be the most important day of my life, I'll just bear with it."

"…to be fair I only fucked up the night."

She shoves him but can't help the genuine smile that tugs at her lips. "It's fine. You have plenty of other days to make just as important instead."

He smirks back at her. "We can start with today," he says, eying her up and down suggestively.

Petra snorts. "Levi, you haven't brushed your teeth, you're still wearing yesterday's clothes, and you mind of smell. I am not even remotely aroused."

"Tch, you say that right now."


	28. reincarnation

**prompt: **reincarnation

* * *

><p>Levi likes to watch her when she sleeps and sometimes that makes him wonder if he's a creep, but then he snorts derisively, and thinks with a wry grin that he probably kind of is. It's not that he actively waits up at night for her to fall asleep so he can stare at her. Of course not. That would be ridiculous and impractical and just weird. No. Just sometimes she falls asleep with her head resting on his chest or curled up in a ball inches away from him or in the middle of a late night conversation with her face half-pressed into the pillow, her hair in disarray, and her lips parted ever so slightly, her final words on the tip of her tongue.<p>

Petra's a weird-sleeper, side-snuggler, blanket-hogger, stomach-sprawler.

At the moment she sleeps with her back to him, her copper hair mostly on the pillow with some strands slipping down the side of it. He watches the subtle movements of her body with every breath she takes as her arm rises a millimeter or two and her spine shifts, drawing his attention to her back.

Levi has always found Petra's birthmark interesting, an web of lines starting at the middle of her back and moving outwards. It's ultimately shapeless but unlike typical blob-esque birthmarks that most people have, hers looks like a poorly applied tattoo. Once he considered that she might have had a surgery of some sort in the past, but the tan lines lacing her skin lack the typical pearly whiteness of scars. And one day she'd confirmed that it was something she was just born with no matter how unnatural it seemed.

"I can feel you staring at me, creep."

She shifts onto her back, stretching her arms and legs like a cat before drawing the duvet up to her chest and then smiling.

"What time is it?" Petra asks. Her voice is hoarse and her eyes are barely open.

"One-ish?"

Her nose wrinkles. "Why the hell are you awake?"

Levi shrugs. "Can't sleep."

She just sighs and turns over so that she's resting on her stomach but with her head still turned towards him. She doesn't look all that comfortable but she's smiling so she must be fine, Levi supposes.

"You have an interesting birthmark," he tells her, tracing the lines of it with his finger.

"So I've been told." Petra shivers under his touch. "I always forget its there," she admits.

But he doesn't. He can't. He sees it all the time, every shared shower, every low-cut shirt, every intimate moment. When she wears something sheer and he notices it, he finds himself trying to trace the lines on her back with his eyes. He rests his palm on the small of her back for a brief moment before dragging it up her spine and over her birthmark and then running his fingers through her hair.

"Birthmarks are supposed to be the spots where you were seriously injured in your past life," she whispers like it's a secret. "Although I'm pretty sure if that was the case, I was a lot more than just _seriously injured_ considering the size and location of my birthmark."

"Right."

She's so awkwardly splayed, Levi thinks, resting on her stomach with her head tilted up to avoid burying her face in the pillow.

"That doesn't look comfortable," Levi notes.

"Yeah… it isn't," she responds with a laugh. Finally she turns onto her side and presses her back against him. "Now go to sleep," she says. "I have brunch plans with Auruo in the morning."

He throws his arm around her middle and draws her closer to him. "Who the fuck goes out for _brunch_?"

"Well it's Auruo. I bet he's going to get a frittata again."

She laughs at her own words and Levi rolls his eyes. "Where are you guys going?"

"Forgot what it's called, but the setup is tree-themed. Very rustic. It's that new cafe that opened up on 57th Street." She glances at him over her shoulder, effectively shoving her hair into his face. He grunts and she turns around to face him properly. "Want to come?" she asks, her words coming out slowly.

"Not really," he declines. "But I'll cook you dinner after work. Will you be home by seven?"

"Of course I'll be home by…"

He snorts when she stops talking halfway through her sentence. She fell asleep, he notes fondly, so he just watches her as she snores softly and shifts slightly. He pulls her closer, resting his forehead against hers and keeping one hand on the curious marks marring her back.


	29. uniform

**Summary:** Hanji decides to redesign the uniform. Or, at least, just Petra's.

* * *

><p>"You said you needed me for official military business."<p>

"Petra, this _is_ official military business."

"No," Petra counters, hands on her hips as she gets into lecture mode. "_This_ is you making me try on a skirt while you hold my pants hostage!" She gestures to the red mini she's now wearing that Hanji had handed to her just moments ago. She feels a little cold and _a lot_ naked but focuses on figuring out why on earth Hanji felt the need to lie to her and how to get her pants back since. "Are you trying to trick me into something?"

"I would never!"

Petra raises an eyebrow at Hanji, but Hanji just sighs.

"I'll have you know that I have permission from the higher ups for this." Hanji picks up a folded piece of paper and hands it to Petra with a smug grin.

Petra scans the contents and then pinches the bridge of her nose in frustration. "This is literally a piece of paper that says 'I can do what I want.'"

"Exactly."

With a groan, Petra throws the paper back on Hanji's desk. She makes another grab for her pants, but Hanji holds them above her head knowing Petra's too short to actually do anything.

"See, I'm trying to redesign the Scouting Legion uniform."

"You mean no more stupid white pants?" Petra asks excitedly. "As in finally,_finally_, we'll wear something practical and easy to get stains out of?"

"Yes!" Hanji flicks the skirt and Petra swats her hand away. "See, now the blood can just go on your skin and—" She pauses when Petra throws her head back in laughter. She clutches her stomach and bends forward, making Hanji frown. "What's so funny?"

"Hanji, stop joking around!" Petra shakes her head. "How can anyone wear this while fighting? This isn't even remotely practical." She frowns thoughtfully. "Also, I won't be able to manoeuver without showing the world my bare ass."

"Nonsense."

"No, not nonsense." Petra jumps, trying to reach for the pants she had stupidly given to Hanji to hold. "Now can I please have my pants back? The Captain wants us to go over some drills and I can't do that in, well," She points to the skirt, "_this_."

"No."

"What do you mean no?"

Hanji grins. She tugs Petra along and walks towards the door, opening it and pushing Petra outside none too gently.

"Petra, as a member of the Scouting Legion—"

"Oh, here we go."

"—it is your duty to serve your people and aid your comrades."

"How is this aiding my comrades?"

"Well, for starters, you have really nice legs and we all like looking at them," Hanji points out, smirking when Petra blushes and begins to sputter. "And, of course, you're helping me by testing out my new uniform proposal!" With those words said, Hanji waves goodbye and shut the door in Petra's face.

Petra stands there for a moment before banging on the door. "Okay, very funny!" she says wearily. "But seriously, I need my pants!"

"Go to training, Petra!"

"Hanji!" Petra shrieks, realizing that Hanji's locked the door. She looks around the hall and is relieved that it's at least empty. "This isn't funny! I can actually get in trouble with the Captain for not showing up in uniform!"

"Honestly though, everyone wears whatever top they want. What _is_ the uniform?"

"Well definitely _not this skirt_—"

"Ral!"

Petra nearly jumps when she hears her name and turns to the source, only to find Levi frowning at her. She salutes him immediately, but he takes no notice of that.

"Why the hell aren't you on the training grounds with the others?" He pauses to take in her full appearance, focusing on her bottom half for a lot longer than Petra thinks is actually appropriate. "And what the actual fuck are you wearing?"

"Er." Petra swallows thickly, trying to think of a proper excuse but somehow going with, "I'm here on official military business, sir." Except the words come out more like a question, so Levi raises an eyebrow at her. "Squad Leader Hanji says she has orders from the Commander to redesign the uniform," she lies. Her hands fall to the skirt and she tugs at the edges, uncomfortable with its shortness in front of the captain. "She, uh, asked me to try this out for her, sir."

"I see."

"Yes."

"Hm." Levi's gaze falls down to the skirt again and Petra struggles not to fidget. He nods once and smirks. "Well, tell Hanji I approve."

He walks away, missing Petra's incoherent mumbling and Hanji cackling to herself from behind the door.


	30. modern au iii

So they have lunch together.

Her lunches are always from one to two, complete with her eating whatever is the soup of the day at the coffee shop across the street, drinking tap water from her blue travel mug, and completing the crossword from the day's newspaper. She's one of those people that make funny faces while thinking, jutting her lips out like she's about to press a sloppy kiss against him.

Not that Levi ever thinks about kissing her.

But when he's not busy making last minute handouts or in the middle of emailing students or professors, Levi likes to spend that one afternoon hour with her, joining her across the street and getting the chili while she gets broccoli cheddar or creamy sundried tomato or potato leek (she hates chicken noodle). They settle at a table in the corner eating and drinking and chatting between her crossword answers and his scathing written critiques.

"So how's the grading going?" she asks while spreading butter on the piece of bread she was given with her soup. Levi not so subtly eyes the amount that she puts on. When she notices, she scoffs. "Listen, everything tastes better with butter." He shrugs and she decides not to even bother. "Midterms, Levi?"

"Terrible," he says. "One asshat wrote in red pen. Who the fuck writes an exam in red pen? A dumbass who got a 47, that's who."

"How many are left?"

Levi gestures to his bag, stuffed to the brim with little white booklets.

"Ew."

"Uh huh." He stabs angrily at his steaming chili, shoving the spoon roughly into his mouth and immediately regretting that decision. "I'll probably be stuck grading all weekend."

Petra sighs. "That's too bad. I was going to ask you to go to La Nuit Blanche with me tomorrow."

Levi blinks. "The art festival?"

"The one and only."

He attended the city-wide art festival ages ago back in his third year of undergrad, but he mostly remembers Hanji insisting they all try her brownies before they left for their night out and that he thought contemporary art was fucking weird and that he may or may not have tripped balls in the middle of some light show because _fucking Hanji_ and her _fucking brownies_.

Levi can't help but shudder. "I'm not really an art person," he admits. For the most part, contemporary art just makes him frown and turn his head every which way in the hopes that the right angle might tell him what the hell he's looking at. "I think I'll pass."

"Oh. Oh, okay. That's fine."

He frowns because he knows that voice and that's not Petra's. It's the fake voice she uses while smiling at some idiot student who's trying to fight her authority, or while she's on the phone with her roommate who's calling to tell her about something that broke in their apartment. He's heard her use that voice many times before, but never on him, and when he actually tears his eyes away from Jaeger's barely passable exam, he's surprised to see how utterly disappointed she looks.

"Uh." Levi swallows thickly, suddenly shy. "We can do something else though?" She doesn't smile, but she certainly stops frowning.

"There's this cookie place my friend told me about," she replies slowly, clearly uncomfortable with putting herself out again. "You pick a dough like oatmeal or peanut butter or whatever, and then you pick three other ingredients like chocolate chips or pecans or dried cherries. And then they mix them and bake them and you get like five little cookies. We can go there?"

"Remember the part where I don't like sweets?"

She grins and he almost smiles back, pleased to see her unfazed by their earlier exchange. "Oh, I remember. That's why we're friends, right?" She winks at him. "Besides, we can make it work. Once I had peanut butter with dark chocolate chips and milk chocolate chips and it was perfect. You'll like it."

Levi sighs. "Well, you're not really going to give me any choice in the matter, are you?"

"Not at all."

"Fine," he says, not sounding even remotely opposed.

"Great!" she chirps. "It's a date then!" When she realizes exactly what she just said, her breath hitches and her eyes widen. Eventually, she regains her voice and she laughs awkwardly. "Like a friend date, I mean. Obviously."

"Of course."

"Right."

"Yeah."


	31. pillows

**prompt: **pillows  
><strong>note: <strong>hanji probably shipped rivetra so hard

* * *

><p>"So." Neither Petra nor Levi say anything which only makes Hanji's smile widen. "Sooooo." Hanji continues to clean the bloody wound about an inch above Petra's right ear. "<em>Soooooooo<em>—"

"What the fuck do you want, Shitty Glasses?"

Petra sighs when Levi gives in to Hanji, while Hanji tries to avoid looking too pleased.

"So is this a sex injury?"

Levi makes a choking sound and Petra manages to open her eyes despite her wooziness to give Hanji a dirty look. "I am concussed and have a bloody head wound," Petra points out flatly.

Hanji just shrugs. "Hey, I don't know what you guys are into."

"It's not a sex injury!" Levi snaps.

"Fine, fine!"

Hanji stops talking and goes about clotting the bleeding but still wears an amused grin, infuriating Levi to no end. All Hanji wanted was a glass of water and when she had passed the infirmary and saw the lights on, she was surprised to see Petra sitting on a cot with blood smeared on the right side of her head and Levi awkwardly pressing some gauze against the head wound. Naturally, like any good person, Hanji stepped in partly to give Petra the proper care she needed, but mostly just to hear how this happened.

"So you're _sure _this isn't a sex injury?"

"Fucking hell, Shitty Glasses," Levi glowers. He runs a hand through his hair, looking pained even though Petra's the one currently suffering. "We were…" He sighs. "We were having a pillow fight."

Hanji blinks. "A pillow fight?" Petra tries to turn away to hide her flush but Hanji keeps her head still. "A _pillow fight_?"

"Yes, you stupid shit!"

"Stop. Shouting." Both Levi and Hanji have the grace to look down in shame when Petra drones out her order, clearly in pain and nauseous. "We were having a pillow fight," Petra confirms quietly. "Or well, _I_ was having a pillow fight. Way Too Fucking Into It McGee over here was having a pillow _war_."

"Oh."

Hanji tries not to look disappointed.

"So then this _isn't_ a sex injury?"

"Fucking hell – _no_!"


	32. gift

**Summary:** Petra gives Levi a present.

* * *

><p>One morning Petra comes to his office with all of the day's deliveries and a little something extra.<p>

First she sets down the tray his tea sits on. Next, she puts the papers she'd been carrying between her arm and her body down on his desk in separate stacks, explaining what each one is and what he needs to do with them. And after that she pulls out a small box from her pocket, placing it on top of the pile of forms furthest from him almost reluctantly. She shrugs when he looks at her curiously, so naturally it's the first thing he grabs.

Levi opens the box with a hint suspicion and is surprised when he sees a set of cufflinks, round and silver and each engraved with a cursive _L_. He turns to her expectantly but she focuses on her work.

"I heard you're going to some fancy party in Sina in two days," she says, stirring a slash of milk and a few drops of honey into his tea. Levi scowls when he remembers the event Erwin told him he'd have to attend and she laughs. "Now don't look _too_ excited, Captain."

Something sarcastic sits on his tongue but he's too busy plucking one cufflink out of the box and holding it closer for inspection.

The silver is polished and gleams under the light. There's not a single scratch on it and the etch looks brand new.

"I was ironing your suit," Petra begins, "when I noticed one of your cufflinks had a crack in it." She shrugs. "I just—I was thinking—I—" Petra purses her lips and her cheeks begin to turn red and eventually she just sighs. Smiling shyly, she finally meets his eyes. "They're just… they're for you. I know you don't like flashy, but I wanted them _somewhat_ personalized and I—"

"They're fine." Levi clears his throat awkwardly and puts the cufflink back in the box.

Petra says nothing, silently handing him his tea. Before she can draw away, he puts his hand on top of hers and squeezes slightly.

"Thank you, Petra," he tells her. "Really."

She nods once and goes on her way.


	33. surname

**Summary: **How does Mrs. Ackerman sound to you?

* * *

><p>Levi doesn't make the suggestion so much as <em>assume<em> it's already going to happen, so Petra laces her fingers through his and smiles in a way that she hopes is soothing before she lets him in on her secret.

"So uh," she begins eloquently. "I'm not changing my last name."

"What?" Finally Levi stops walking and turns to face. He stares at her with confusion written all over his face. "Why not?"

She rolls her eyes because she knew this was how he'd react. He's a proud man deep down and she knew that _not_ changing her name to Petra Ackerman wouldn't sit well with him. Knowing Levi, remaining Petra Ral meant something along the lines of reluctance or shame about their relationship.

Petra sighs and squeezes his hand. "I'm getting married, Levi, not getting a new father."

He winces slightly and she thinks he might have taken that as a jab about his age so she kisses him on the cheek to placate him.

"I don't need to take your last name for people to understand I'm yours," she tells him through a smile. "I mean it's not like you're taking mine, right? And keeping my own doesn't make me love you any less."

Still, he's pouting so she shakes her head and laughs and pulls him along as they walk towards the church.


End file.
